One More Day
by GatorGirl99
Summary: Another Daryl/OC. But if you're like me, there cannot be too many. Takes place After The Dying Fire using frequent flashbacks. Emory and her daughter Grace have been with the group since the beginning. Emory has feelings for Daryl but has long accepted they will never be returned. So now, her only goal is to stay alive One More Day. Smut, bigoted offensive language
1. Chapter 1

The loss of the farm had been devastating, on so many levels. Not only had they lost their safe refuge...their pastoral respite from the neverending nightmare that had become daily life, but they'd lost so people. So many people: Andrea, Patricia, Shane, Jimmy, Dale...Jacqui, Jim, Amy. And Sophia! Would it ever stop? No! It probably wouldn't. And that was the depressing truth.

Emory glanced over at her sleeping daughter and wondered how much more a little girl could take. Who was she kidding? She wasn't that sure how much more she herself could take, without cracking or changing. Like Rick.

Ever since that night by the fire things had been different. Rick had become so cold and harsh. He fiercely protected the group, absolutely! But now he barked out commands like a general ordering troops. Long gone was the warmth and laughter of the good-natured father she had come to know and admire. What was even more heartbreaking was to watch Carl as he too began to harden, mimicking and learning from his father.

Carl had even started treating Lori just as coldly as Rick did, and at times Emory couldn't believe the things that came out of his disrespectful mouth. The old Rick would never have tolerated it and Lori simply winced and said nothing. But this was between the Grimes, she reminded herself.

Carl was only three years older than her daughter, Grace, and Emory reflected back on how they used to play together back at the quarry and then at the farm like normal kids. Back in the early days of the outbreak, Emory told Grace they were pretending this was that camping trip she'd always wanted but that lie had been long since extinguished.

Strangely the only person Emory could really relax and stand to be around for any length of time was Daryl, the gruff hunter. Lori and Carol were getting on her nerves more and more lately. To be fair, Emory knew she had no right to judge but she couldn't help but wonder how things would be different if Lori hadn't slept with Shane. Maybe Rick and Shane would still be friends if she hadn't driven that wedge between them. A wedge that looked to be about six months along now. But Emory also knew things were never that black and white. Nor did anyone ever really know what went on in a marriage once the doors were closed.

And that comment Carol made about Rick not being a man of honor, drove her up a wall. The man just had his best friend try and murder him and still his priority was to keep every one safe and together. But that wasnt good enough? From a woman that let her husband beat her daily and lust after her daughter? But then, hadn't she too stayed in her dysfunctional marriage longer than was healthy.

She began to slow down when she saw Rick signaling for them to pull over up ahead. In the past few months she'd become expert at siphoning gas, hot wiring cars, sewing flesh back together, skewering dead people with a variety of weapons, and learning to appreciate a variety of ways to eat squirrel and rabbit. If the 'ladies who lunch' could just see me now, she grinned wryly as she looked at her short scraggly nails and her makeup free face in the rear view mirror. Emory thought back on her days of weekly salon appointments followed by lunch where she would only pretend to eat, and then shopping with women she loathed yet pretended to adore.

Maybe its me, Emory wondered? Why do women annoy the piss out of me? Well, not all women. She had really liked Maggie, Beth and Andrea. She and Andrea used to try and one up the other in target shooting.

When Emory's husband beat and raped her, that was the first and last time, which was why it irritated her that Carol allowed Ed to hurt not just her but was lusting after Sophia. There wasn't a person in camp who wouldn't have supported her and given Ed the boot.

But am I really any different, Emory scolded herself? Maybe that's why it bothered her so much? Because she could see herself in Carol?

Sure, she had noticed Bryan's drinking escalating as well as the paranoia and controlling behavior, but all the other brokers drank heavily and celebrated extravagantly she rationalized. She figured his need for control was because of his work. Also why it was so important to Bryan that she always looked perfect. To the poing where he even began scheduling Botox appointments. He went on and on about how her appearance reflected on him. He said it was a symbol to the other brokers and CEO's. He made a point to provide her the best of everything. Tiffany jewelry, Louboutin shoes and Hermes Birkin handbags were weekly gifts. our search? We're just going aimlessly house to house now," she saw Rick immediately get defensive.

But she left Brett as soon as she was discharged from the hospital. After she filed for divorce, she was the one ostracized. Not that she really gave a shit. It was like she was watching a tv show; an anthropological study on the mores of a strange yet fascinating tribal people, like on the Discovery Channel. In reality it was more 'Bitchy Housewives of Manhattan'.

Apparently she had violated 'The code'. And by leaving Brett and publicly exposing what a piece of filth he was, she had likewise tarnished his colleagues simply by association. After that, his colleagues had trouble getting their kids accepted into the 'right' schools and others weren't allowed to purchase in the 'right' buildings because they were rejected by co-op boards. Still, his firm hadn't cared, as long as he had the Midas touch.

Snapping out of her reflections, Emory pulled to a stop and put the car into park.

"Gracie. Stay here ok!" Emory clicked the locks again and walked over to where the others were huddled, a ratty map spread atop the hood.

Emory stood back and let the others debate what route to take as she listened to them go back and forth. She had been just about to speak when she caught Daryl staring at her in that cautious way he has. Immediately she paused to run a self-conscious hand over her hair. She felt her hair and it was still mostly secured in the braid. Maybe there's crap on my face? Emory then wiped her cheeks with the back of her hand.

That was when she caught that evil smirk on his dirty but handsome face. She gave him a glare realizing she'd just been fucked with, but couldn't keep the humor out of her eyes. This was why nobody was ever afraid of her. She just couldn't stay angry...well other than at Bryan. But surprisingly, Daryl nodded to her, encouraging her to speak up.

"Em, Rick? I think we need to at least talk about the kind of place we are looking for. Maybe target our search? We're just going aimlessly house to house now," she saw Rick immediately get defensive.

"Aimlessly?" Rick's voice grew stern and his eyes narrowed at Emory. Emory swallowed hard, realizing she was actually afraid of Rick.

"I know we're doing the best we can. And most important we are all still together. I was just thinking that if we targeted our search we might find it faster, rather than hope we just run across it. I agree with you Rick. There has to be a place where can build a new life. But what is it? I mean, are we looking for a gated community we can fortify? Maybe a high school? After Columbine the newer ones were built with secure exteriors and often an interior courtyard. Or maybe a hospital or police station? A mansion with an entirely fenced property?" Emory spoke fast before she could chicken out. But Before Rick could rip into her, the others began offering up their own thoughts.

"If we had a courtyard we could farm. Plant some crops. Maybe have some goats or a dairy cow? Chickens?"

"A place that we can secure...and defend."

"Somewhere with a generator , maybe add solar,"

"Clean water."

"Alright! Emory's right. We do need to target our search! Now lets go over this again. Where would we be most likely to find something like that?" Rick began running his fingers over the roads on the map.

"Well, I remember driving past a private boarding prep school just on this side of the North Carolina-Georgia border," Emory recalled, walking over to the map to point it out. "It had a tall fence all around it and had this beautiful brick building on top of the hill. You'd be able to see for miles."

"I think I know that one. Rabun-Gap," Hershel spoke up. "The Jameson's sent their boy to school there. Must have been a good school since he later went to Harvard."

"Oh yeah. Wasn't that Doug? I had such a crush on him before he left," Maggie remembered the cute blond boy. Glenn gave her a pinch on the ass, which only made Maggie smile bigger.

"Well we are already this far north so we should at least take a look. It will likely start snowing soon. We still keep all our options open but lets keep trying to head north towards this Rabun-Gap school. We will find something!" Rick's exhaustion was evident as he sighed and folded the map.

"Ima go see if I can catch us anything!" Daryl spun on his heel and started towards the woods. He didn't like it that Emory's jeans were getting looser and her little girl wasn't getting bigger.

"Take Emory with you," Rick ordered, catching them both a bit off guard. But neither she nor Daryl was in the mood to argue with Rick right now. It just wasn't worth it.

"Watch Grace for me!" she bored holes into Rick's weary blue ones, before hurrying to catch up with Daryl.

She knew he preferred hunting alone but Rick had been extra cautious since the farm so she did her best to follow behind quietly. She'd gone with him before but mostly she ended up just carrying his kill. She wasn't as silent as Daryl but she had gotten better than she used to be. It also gave her an excuse to admire his muscular arms without having to worry about getting caught.

"Why didn't ya speak up sooner?" Daryl asked her out of the blue. It was getting cold and there was little out moving, so he broke his usual rule of complete

"What? I mean I did!" Emory was still surprised he was even talking to her. He didn't usually say anything while hunting.

"Nah. I mean before today? Ya obviously been thinkin on it," he turned accusing eyes on her. But then complimented her. "It's a good idea."

"I don't know. Rick's just been so...different since we left the farm. I was afraid he would think I was challenging him. That he'd tell me and Gracie we had to go off on our own, like that one night," Emory looked away, not wanting to let Daryl know how afraid she was. "Send him a postcard."

"Ya and Gracie ain't going nowhere!" Daryl ground out with so much vehemence he surprised himself. He spun around, suddenly embarrassed to look at her. She was easily the prettiest woman in the group. In fact she was the prettiest women he'd ever seen in real life. And she didn't even seem to know it, which was probably why he liked her.

And also why he avoided the hell out of her and situations like this. It just made him feel uncomfortable and embarrassed. She'd probably laugh hysterically if she knew some of the things he'd been thinking about her. That he'd jerked off picturing her.

No, she wouldn't laugh. It would be even worse. She would smile at him all nice-like, then give him some crap like, 'it's not you, it's me'.

"Daryl?" he startled as he felt her small hand touch his arm. "Thanks! Thanks for saying that! I hate to think how Grace and I would do if we had to go out on our own!" her large grey eyes had moistened over and seemed to swallow him whole

"Emry," Daryl shortened her name even further. "You and Grace ain't going nowhere," not without me anyway, he added silently.

"Ain't nuthin out here. Let's head back and find that place ya'll been talkin bout," he pulled her along, his heart thumping so loud he was sure he had already scared off any game that might have been there.

They headed north for a while, keeping on the lookout for herds as well as possible safe havens. It was difficult and slow-going at times. In fact they'd had to back track multiple times. They ended up jogging east, and then south a ways to avoid the herds. Frustrated and tired, they had to again retreat and were no closer to this prep school. But they managed to find a large abandoned farmhouse set off by itself, not terribly different than the Greene's farm. It wasn't technically abandoned since they had to shoot three walkers roaming around inside.

The good news was that the farmhouse was situated in the middle of the property, so they would get decent warning should more walkers head their way.

Inside, Beth was already sitting at the kitchen table playing with Grace while Carol opened up some canned goods they'd found in the upstairs kitchen cupboards.

"Carol, I'm going to check the basement. Maybe they have some emergency supplies down there." Emory offered. They'd found some beans, tuna fish and some tomatoes upstairs in the kitchen but not much else.

Emory knew the basement had already been cleared but she still carried her knife and gun with her. Simply a matter of habit. She looked around the dark room, raising the lantern to see better. Dusty shelves were piled high with crap and brick-a-brack. A couple of boxes were labeled Xmas, but everything else was a musty, disorganized hodgepodge.

"Oh shit," Emory squealed. A mouse took off, racing over her booted foot before finding a safer place to hide. "I hate mice," she bit her lip, well aware mice were the least of her worries anymore. Then she heard steps on the stairs.

"Ya ok? Heard ya squeal?" Daryl joined her as he immediately started looking around.

"Mouse attacked me," Emory tried to joke but she still shuddered involuntarily.

"Find anything worthwhile down here yet?" he continued looking around, but also keeping an eye on her...and her attack mouse. He began pulling things out and taking stuff of shelves.

Emory found another door, sort of hidden in the corner. "Daryl? Did you already clear in here?" She looked over at Daryl who immediately pushed her behind him, his body tense and ready.

"Don't think so. Not sure anyone saw it? Get yer knife out and stay behind me!" he ordered. With a rush he shoved the door open and prepared to slaughter anything that moved.

Emory stayed glued to Daryl's back, soothed by just his closeness. He was sweaty and dirty but she still liked the way he smelled. Kind of like leather and the woods.

"Well would you lookee here," Daryl stepped foreward pulling Emory along behind him. He grabbed the lantern from her and illuminated a root cellar, with dozens and dozens of neatly stacked mason jars.

"Oh my Daryl! Look at all this!" Emory's eyes suddenly danced in delight at all the food.

"There's tomatoes, cucumbers, beets, carrots, corn, green beans." Emory rattled off contents as she looked through the shelves and Daryl held the lantern so she could see. Daryl was standing so close to Emory in the dark, narrow cellar that he was practically on top of her. In fact, her entire body was pressed firmly against him. Her hair was no longer in a braid but was now loose and hanging down her back in waves and he caught a faint whiff of orange blossoms and something else. Vanilla, maybe?

"Oh my god! Look here! Strawberries!" she grabbed another jar off the shelf.

"I can't wait!" she nearly fainted with anticipation, telling herself it was the preserves and not Daryl's close proximity. Daryl could hear the excitement in her voice so he took the jar from her and swiftly twisted.

"I mean we'd be remiss if we didn't at least try it just in case its bad. No point getting anyone's hopes up right?" Emory rationalized with a conspiratorial wink.

There was a loud whoosh from the vacuum being released and then the lid came off. But before he could set the lid down Emory greedily stuck two fingers in, scooping out a heap and sucking it off her fingers, eyes rolling back in her head as she savored the flavor.

"Oh My God! That is amazing! You have to try some," before Daryl realized what she was doing, she repeated the motion, and scooped some into his mouth, using the same two fingers.

It was Daryl's warm soft mouth sucking the sweet preserves off her fingers that stilled her. Zings of pleasure raced through her and suddenly she couldn't even breathe. She met his eyes, and she was trapped by the intensity if his gaze. Unable to look away, she slowly withdrew her fingers which just prolonged the pleasure.

Oh God! What had she just done? She spun away from him to hide her shame.

"Jeezus Daryl. I'm so sorry. I shouldn't have done that," Emory's face was on fire as she kept babbling. "I'm so ashamed!" she couldn't face him, terrified she might start crying.

Daryl's gut clenched and he berated himself for being so stupid. During those few seconds while his tongue swirled around her fingers he could have sworn she wanted him. And God knows he wanted her. Not as a friend but for more. But watching her turn away in shame and immediately Merle's voice reverberated through his psyche. 'Nobody's ever gonna love ya but me.' Like she would ever be into him. Maybe someone like Rick, but never him.

"Of course yer fuckin' ashamed! What? Did ya just got carried from the sugar rush and decided on slummin' it in the basement, with the stupid redneck huh!" he grunted as he slammed his hand against the door jamb. But he welcomed the physical pain to the burning he felt in his gut. He hadn't felt anything for anyone like he did her, and now to have her disdain shoved in his face. But it was his own fault. He shouldn't have been so stupid.

His words confused Emory. He sounded so angry. Hurt even. She spun around to look at him, bewilderment on her face.

"Daryl?" she reached for his shoulder but he just angrily shook her off.

"Don't fuckin' touch me," he growled, reminding her a bit like an injured animal.

"Well, that's what I was apologizing for in the first place, you grumpy shit!" she yelled back at him, unsure where her courage came from. Maybe adrenaline because something strange was coursing though her body, like a drug.

"I was trying to apologize. I know you don't feel like that about me, and suddenly I'm putting my fingers in your mouth ... like some sort of hussy?" she babbled as she tried to explain. Make him forgive her. Give her another chance. She couldn't lose his friendship. Did she just say 'hussy'? She inwardly groaned.

"Daryl I'm sorry. I know it wasn't fair of me. To put you on the spot like that after all you've done for me...for Gracie," she felt tears beginning to pool and her voice cracked.

"Did you just accuse me of 'Slumming it'? You think me coming on to you is 'slummin' it'?" she asked, suddenly recalling the strange accusation and trying to understand. It was all getting so confusing.

Daryl stared at the wall of canned food, gripping the wall for support as he listened to her incoherent babble. It was hard to understand her, but it sounded like she was apologizing for coming on to him. Like she had no idea of the effect she had on him?

"Emry, I caint understand a damn thing yer saying. Ya either want me or ya don't," Daryl couldn't believe he'd just said that. Fuck! He slammed his hands against the wall again, desperate to get out of there. Away from her.

"Of course I do. I mean how could I not? I mean, you must know I do! But I know you don't...," before she could even think of a way to explain, he spun around and slammed her back up against the shelving, attacking her lips. Hard! Like a man starved he kissed her. She had never been kissed like this. With so much hunger and need and craving.

She tasted a faint coppery trickle of blood as her teeth cut into the tender flesh of her lip. But she didn't care. It was the most exciting, exhilerating feeling she'd ever experienced.

She leaned into his warmth and crept her hands up around his neck, threading her fingers in his hair to pull him closer. Boldly, she ran the tip of her tongue over his lower lip, then slid her tongue inside to do some of her own exploring.

When she did that Daryl felt the blood roaring in his head as his lips continued to slide back and forth, his tongue greedily exploring. Ever since she'd said, 'of course' to his question he'd lost the ability to form coherent thought. He still wasn't sure this was happening, but he wasn't ready to stop and find out if it was a hallucination either. He grabbed her hair and pulled it so he could have access to her neck. He bent down to run his tongue along the vein that was pulsing wildly. Her breath was in his ear, husky and warm, and his dick twitched in his pants when she moaned softly.

"Daryl? Emory?" Carol's voice broke the spell. Daryl jumped away from her, eyes wide like a deer in headlights and Emory stood there panting, struggling to catch her breath to even speak. But if she didn't Carol would come downstairs to find them.

"We're fine Carol. Just found a cellar with some canned goods. We'll bring everything up in a sec," Emory prayed she did not sound like she'd just received the absolute best kiss of her entire life.

"That's great. I can't wait to see what I have to work with," Carol yelled back, standing at the top of the stairwell yet unable to see them.

"One word Carol. Strawberries!" Emory yelled, except the reminder of the strawberries brought an immediate return of desire to both Daryl and Emory.

"Strawberries!" Carol squealed in delight. "Hurry! I'll tell the others!". But then suddenly Emory was back with Daryl in the cellar again. She shuffled side to side and struggled to say something thoughtful or witty. Or would he say something? So she simply stood there.

But Daryl just turned away from her and started gathering up jar after jar of canned goods, which irritated the hell of of Emory. How could he kiss her like that and then just say nothing. Ignore her!

"Hey Daryl?" she pulled him back. "Ya either want me or ya don't?" she threw his words back at him. But instead of feeling put on the spot or uncomfortable, he felt amazing. With a smirk, the closest Daryl ever came to a smile, he turned back to face her.

"I think I was a shitload more clear than you were!" Daryl's eyes were devouring hers and Emory had a glimmer of what his prey likely felt while he was hunting.

"Touche Mr. Dixon! Touche" Emory couldn't help but laugh at how right he was, as she followed him up the stairs, arms loaded with jars.

But before he opened the door at the top of the stairs he turned to her. "Grumpy shit?" he accused. "I ain't grumpy!"


	2. Chapter 2 - Flashback (Skinning squirrel

"Hey Mister Daryl?" Grace wandered out to where he had set his tent up far away from the others. Grace wasn't sure why but knew it worried her mom when he'd moved his tent out so far. And now there was the bad boy they kept locked in the shed. Mister Rick and Shane took him for a drive today, though.

"I done told ya kid. It's just Daryl. Ain't no mister in front." Daryl tried to snap but he couldn't seem to muster the necessary conviction when the little girl stared at him. She had the same hypnotizing stormy grey eyes as her mom.

"Mom says I have to. That it's a matter of courtesy," the little girl said solemnly, cautiously sitting down on the log next to him.

"But you call Shane by his name?" Daryl countered.

"Mom says he's a douche bag and I am not allowed to be alone with him." Grace said with such utter innocence that he couldn't help but laugh out loud.

The sight of Daryl laughing so freely apparently delighted and fascinated Grace.

"Ya listen to yer mom, ya hear! And ya shouldn't be walkin' out here on yer own either!" he was glad Emory had picked up on how dangerous Shane was getting, but with Randall's group out there, it was still very dangerous. She might have been some posh society lady, but so far she'd shown good survival instincts. Not only that but she was a damn good shot with that Sig of hers.

"I'm not on my own. I'm with you. Can I help you?" Grace asked, looking down at the pile dead squirrels by Daryl's feet.

"I think yer momma might not like it," Daryl didn't want to explain how she ended up bloody and filthy.

"No she will, I promise. We talk about things before I go to sleep, ya know. And she said she wants me to learn how to do stuff. Stuff like you can do. She said she wants to learn to." Grace replied with such sincerity that Daryl had no choice but to believe her.

"Ya ain't gonna get squeamish and cry like a baby are ya?" Daryl accused, trying to sound harsher than he was. Normally kids irritated him, but Grace was different. She was smart and always just said exactly what she was thinking. And she was never afraid or intimidated by him."

"I promise!" Grace answered solemnly.

"Then come over here and pay attention. Ya gotta do it just like I say," Daryl grabbed the next squirrel and laid it out to begin showing Grace how to skin and gut it.

-/:/-

* * *

Emory watched the scene from afar for some five minutes before she finally intruded. Daryl had Grace wielding a knife like a pro. Not only that but they were joking and laughing together. It was the happiest she'd seen her daughter since this whole thing had started.

"Hey you two!" she sauntered over, taking in the sight of the fresh carcasses and meat.

"Mommy look what Mister Daryl taught me!" Grace's hands were covered in filth and blood and she had a huge grin on her face.

Emory squatted down in front of the bowl, making a big show of how impressed she was. "Wow baby! This is impressive. Ya gonna teach me how to do this next time?" Emory looked proudly at her daughter.

"No. I can't because Mister Daryl still has to help me. But Mister Daryl can teach you!" Grace explained matter of factly.

Emory chuckled at her daughter's presumptuousness. "Maybe we should ask Mister Daryl first sweetie?" Emory looked up at Daryl, hoping he wasn't feeling too pressured.

"Oh he will. He's the best!" Grace bounced off the log and came at her mom with her gross, bloody hands.

"Oh no you don't you little stinker!" Emory put her hands up to fend her off but it was too late. She toppled backwards, falling on her ass just as her daughter attacked, erupting in a huge case of the giggles.

Daryl watched mother and daughter wrestle. He'd expected Emory to start yelling when she realized how dirtied she'd become with squirrel blood. But she didn't.

"Enough! Enough!" Emory finally lifted her daughter off of her and set her upright. "Now take that bowl of meat to Carol and get washed up, you little monster!"

Grace dutifully picked up the bowl of meat and began to leave, but Emory interrupted her. "Grace? Aren't you forgetting something?" Emory's voice had switched into her firm 'mom' voice.

Grace turned around dutifully to face Daryl. "Thank you Mister Daryl. For teaching me stuff and everything!" Grace said sincerely, looking utterly pleased with herself.

"S'alright!" Daryl nodded and watched the little girl skip away.

"She told me you said it'd be ok," Daryl looked at Emory, preparing to defend himself.

"Of course it's ok. I love my daughter more than anything but I am well aware that I don't know how to teach her the things she needs to know to survive. So thank you for teaching Grace what you did." Emory sounded so lost and desolate.

"Ain't a big deal," Daryl started feeling uncomfortable under such sincere praise.

"It is, but I won't make you any more uncomfortable than I already have," Emory stood up to leave him alone. But suddenly she spun back around.

"Daryl? I have no right to ask this and I know this place is nothing short of Dysfunction Junction. But please don't leave. Dale said you mentioned..." Emory paused to get a grip on the sudden onslaught of emotion. She paused a second, then headed back to the house.

Daryl watched Emory walk back and came to the realization that there was no way he could leave. Not without them.


	3. Chapter 3 - Flashback (No Good Deed)

"Mom! Look what Mister Daryl has!" Grace pointed to Daryl who was returning from the woods with a string of squirrel carcasses around his belt.

"Come here baby. Rick has to tell Mister Daryl about Merle," she pushed her daughter behind her. She knew Daryl would never purposely hurt her, he could be volatile and she didn't want Grace to get in the midst of it.

"Merle! Get yer fat ass out here! Got us some squirrel!" Daryl marched back into camp, still pissed about losing that deer he'd been tracking for a two days.

He stiffened and paused when he saw the hot lady push her daughter aside, a look of fear on her face. He frowned. Something was going on.

She'd been the only one of the women in camp that had been nice to him. She spoke to him like she did everyone else. She'd even been nice to Merle, and for some strange reason Merle was actually half-way decent to her back, referring to her as Hottie rather than Cooze or Rug Muncher.

"Daryl? I need to talk to you!" Rick came over to Daryl.

"Who the hell are you?" Daryl snarled, his gut churning because he knew something wasn't right, and it had to do with Merle.

"I'm Rick! Rick Grimes!" the new addition to camp explained. Then all hell broke loose.

* * *

"Um Daryl," Emory walked cautiously over to where Daryl was gathering his stuff before he left with the others to go back to Atlanta to find Merle.

"What the fuck ya want lady?" his eyes glinted as he snapped at her. Emory wasn't affected by this nor were her feelings hurt. He'd just found out that his brother had been shackled to a roof in Atlanta. She figured she could cut him some slack.

"I brought you this," she handed him the small bag. "Merle's going to be dehydrated and sunburned ...and in withdrawal." she mumbled the last bit.

"It's just some water, some Gatorade packets, aloe vera, neosporin and gauze, some crackers and beef jerky...and some of my old pain pills." she whispered.

Daryl just stared at her. That anyone would think about how Merle was doing was unbelievable. That she actually worried about his withdrawal.

* * *

Daryl was pissed. All they ended up for their trouble was Merle's amputated hand, only half the guns and ammo, and a long walk back. Up-fuckin-hill. But the care package the lady gave him had come in handy. Daryl shared the Gatoraid and snacks with the others.

"Where'd ya get all this?" T-Dog asked as he took a bite of jerky and they all hiked. "Never pictured you as the type to pack a lunch," T-Dog joked.

"That lady. Long brown hair, gray eyes. Got a daughter looks just like her like some sorta mini-me," Daryl was pissed he couldn't remember her name after all she'd done.

"Oh, yeah! That's Emory," Glenn reminded as he walked along.

"Yeah Emory. I like her. She's really nice. And smokin' hot too. I once caught sight of her while she was coming out of the lake early one mornin', just in her bra and panties. Man, that was a sight to behold!" T-Dog whistled as he remembered, completely unprepared for the raw attack coming his way.

"Don't you ever go peeking on her again, ya sick fuck!" Daryl spun around, frontin' T-Dog until he backed down.

"Sorry man, it was just an accident. I'd never do that to her. I ain't like that! It was just a mistake," the look on Daryl's face had T-Dog worrying the redneck might actually kill him in his sleep. Fucking Dixons were gonna be the death of him!

That was when they heard the screams and then the cacophony of gunfire. Nobody spoke. They simply ran.

"Lori! Carl!" Rick cried out as they ran into camp, now completely overrun with walkers.

Daryl shot anything and everything in his path, looking everywhere for Emory and her girl. Finally, through the smoke and fallen bodies, both fresh and rotten, he saw her. Her handgun was drawn and she had her daughter behind her as they were backing up towards their SUV. But she was surrounded by walkers.

"Baby, you look behind us. If you see anything yell. We've got to get you into the truck!" Emory forced the panic out of her voice as she kept shooting. But she was getting overrun.

"Hurry baby! Get in the car! Now!" Emory prayed they were close enough. She'd now lost faith that she would make it, but she could still get her daughter into the car safely ...if she could just slow down the walkers.

"No matter whatever happens you get in there and lock the door." Emory yelled at her daughter, hearing the door open and Grace scamper inside.

Then, as if by miracle, two of the walkers closest to her dropped at her feet. And then she saw Daryl through the fog, his shotgun raised and still smoking. But she couldn't stop and celebrate. Not yet. She pulled off two more rounds and watched as the other two walkers fell.

She glanced back behind her, rejoicing that Grace was safe and secure in the car. But then she began looking around. Taking in all the carnage, death and devastation. She could hear the sobbing cries, but they seemed muffled as if she was in a bubble.

So she stood simply stood there, completely frozen as panic began to take hold and her breathing became erratic and out of control. Of God, I'm gonna be sick, Emory bent over and her body convulsed uncontrollably as she puked...but there was nothing to even come up.

Daryl hated seeing the look on her face. The fear and sudden realization that it was hopeless. But when she bent over he raced forward and before he knew it she was in his arms, holding onto him for dear life.


	4. Chapter 4 - Up On The Rooftop

A/N: Thank you so much for all your awesome comments. I took a break since Christmas and was just stuck. I've been just enjoying reading all the amazing fiction on here and hoping inspiration would magically appear.

Also thank you to those that picked up on my Brett/Bryan confusion. I switched the name to Bryan. So if I missed any please forgive me and know what I mean.

* * *

Spirits were much improved after the evening meal. Granted many of the veggies were pickled, but Carol still managed to put together a delicious stew and even something that closely resembled dessert. A luxury not experienced since the lost the farm.

Emory struggled to focus on anyone and anything other than Daryl. She was convinced that one look at his face and everyone would know what happened tonight. She wasn't ashamed like he had initially thought, she just wanted to keep this to herself a while. Whatever 'this' was. She wanted some time to ponder and obsess over every little nuance of that moment.

Later that night she curled up next to her daughter in one of the upstairs bedrooms. She would have watch duty later but for now she just stared at Gracie's innocent face while she slept. I've kept my baby safe...so far! Thank you God!

Was it right to be feeling the kinds of things she had been? Feeling what she was feeling for Daryl? She was Gracie's mom for God's sake? She had gone on a few dates after her divorce, but nothing really stuck. But now her number one priority was keeping Grace safe! But she couldn't deny that lately she yearned for more. And that was her last thought before she fell sound asleep.

-/-

* * *

The alarm on her battery operated alarm went off with an obnoxious sound. Shit! 2:45 am! Emory rolled out of bed reluctantly, throwing on layer after layer before climbing up onto the roof. To her surprise it was Daryl waiting up on the roof, not Glenn.

"I thought Glenn had this shift?" Emory carefully crawled through the window and scooted along the roof line to join him.

"Yeah. He and Maggie ended up with their own room here so I took pity on the Chinaman and traded shifts," Daryl pulled the binoculars up to do yet one more sweep of the perimeter.

"You are such a softie. And He's Korean!" Emory teased him, knowing full well Daryl did it on purpose.

He sat perfectly still while he waited to see if she would come sit by him. He felt so stupid and ridiculous especially since he'd been the one to offer to switch with Glenn knowing she had next shift. He'd done it just to have some time alone with her.

To his surprise she came to sit right beside him, thigh to thigh, shoulder to shoulder. She waited for him to make the next move, but instead they sat that way for some ten minutes. Then, not unlike an awkward movie date, she felt him fidget and slowly put his arm around her shoulder to pull her tightly to him.

He was nervous and tense the whole time, up until he felt her relax and snuggle closer into him. Then her left arm crept around his waist and she rested her head on his shoulder. And so they sat, as they looked out over the field for any sign walkers. Daryl was unsure, but this was what it must feel like to be happy. It strangely made him feel a little nauseous but mostly it felt really good.

"Daryl? I really like being here with you like this. But don't you need to sleep!" she whispered into his chest, her breath tickling his chest hair. She desperately wanted to run her tongue down his chest, exploring every inch...every slope and curve.

"I'll sleep when I'm dead!" he chuckled at the old saying, unprepared for the punch on his chest and the look of fury on Emory's face.

"Never say that again! Its not funny! I couldn't...not you!" she buried her face, in his neck, refusing to look at him and embarrassed at the onslaught of emotion.

Daryl stared down at her head buried in his chest, dipping his head down to breathe in the scent if her. He'd never felt this visceral worry for his well-being before. He knew the others valued him for what he could provide. But she never made him feel like that? It touched him and terrified him.

"OK OK! I'm sorry! I didn't mean it," his voice soothed her while he rhythmically stroked her back.

"Daryl? I need to ask you something!" her eyes shone bright in the moonlight. "If anything happens to me, will you look out for Gracie? She worships you, ya know? And you are the only one I really trust! I know it's too much to ask, but I don't have the luxury of thinking I'm gonna live to a ripe old age," Emory's words were rushed and frantic. She was terrified he'd say no, but there was nobody she trusted more. Glenn and Maggie were her next choice but they weren't Daryl.

"The fuck ya talkin' shit' like that. I already told ya! I ain't gonna let anything happen to either of ya," his body was trembling and she could feel it.

"I know. It's just! Would you just say it? Please? You'll watch out for Grace?" Emory pleaded with him. He couldn't bear the thought of Gracie without her, but this was obviously important. And he'd already do anything for the little girl so it was an easy promise.

"Yeah! I'll keep watching out for her." he promised her.

"Thank you! How did I get so lucky?" her eyes shone as she stared up at him.

"Sittin' on a roof, freezin' yer ass off with a redneck during a the apocalypse? Yea? Ya must have really lucked out?" he tried to lighten the mood.

"Shut up!" she shoved him, surprised how comfortable it felt to joke around with him

"How did ya get to be such a good shot?" Daryl asked, struggling to keep the comfortable banter going. What would he have done if he had met her pre-apocalypse? Ran! Thats what he'd have done! Then mocked her for being a society bitch.

"My ex didn't take it real well that I took Gracie and left him. He was sick and mean and violent! And I became sick and tired of being afraid! So I bought guns. But I knew I had to learn how to use them safely and properly, since I had no intention of shooting and missing!" she growled. He felt her frame tense against him at the memory.

"He hurt ya?" was all he said, more afraid of the answer than anything.

"Once!" was all she said. "I refused to let Grace grow up around that kind of dysfunction. It was actually kind of comical. He tried to threaten me and said I'd be poor! That I'd beg him to take me back. But within a month I'd moved back to Georgia near my parents and began managing a local investment firm. He was livid!" he felt the muscles tighten around her waist where his hand was resting.

"Then the judge gave me half his assets! More than two hundred million. But if I had known what it would have done, I would have begged the judge to leave it be. Brett went nuts. Threatened us both. So I made it my raison d'etre to learn how to defend myself and Grace in addition to using his own money to hire security and investigators."

"He came after ya?" Daryl asked cautiously, pissed he couldn't beat this guy's ass now.

"Yeah!" she smiled into the darkness. "But I was ready! Shocked the piss outta him. He thought he'd waltz in and bully me into moving back in with him. When I said 'Hell No' he pounced. I punched him and broke his nose then pulled my Sig and begged him to move. He was already in violation of the restraining order so I didn't even need a reason," Emory retold the story.

"I wish you'd shot him!" he growled, his hands tightening their grip to pull her closer.

"Yeah sometimes I do too. But he probably ended up suffering far worse back in Manhattan!" she felt nothing for her ex except loathing, hating the fact he was Grace's father. He was nothing more than a sperm donor.

Daryl held her close for the next three hours until Rick relieved them. She was a bit shaky with nerves and apprehension while Daryl escorted her to the room she was sharing with Gracie. But as she turned to thank him, she lost her voice. She went mute.

"G'night Emry!" and awkwardly he dipped down and placed a soft kiss on her lips. Emory stood there dazed, realizing Daryl Dixon just kissed her goodnight. It wasn't until he turned and walked away that her voice returned.

"Hey! Grumpy Shit! Ya call that a kiss?" she quietly taunted him as she stepped forward. Daryl froze in his tracks as emotion pulsed throughout his body. He couldn't even breathe so he stood there frozen. She wanted him! She wanted him to kiss her!

Emory watched him absorb her words and for a second she thought he hadn't heard her. But when he spun around, the gleam in his eyes let her know he'd heard every word.

In two steps, he'd grabbed her and pinned her against the wall. But he didn't kiss her. Not yet! He wanted to savor the look of desire on her face.

"Ya complainin'?" he taunted as he slid his hands down her back to settle firmly at her waist. "Maybe ya should tell me what ya were expectin'? Or feel free to show me!" Daryl thought he was being brave, but really he wanted her to show him how she needed him.

Emory had never been in this position before. Taking the lead. Brett had always dictated what happened or didn't happen in the bedroom. But Once Emory got over the shock, she realized how wickedly exhilarating it felt.

Emboldened, she grabbed his shirt to pull him even closer. She pressed her lips against Daryl's, fascinated by their softness. Slowly she ran her tongue over his lower lip, coaxing his mouth open. Unable to continue her slow exploration, she thrust her tongue which was welcomed and met with his equally eager tongue...snaking and sliding and dancing.

Daryl couldn't stand it. He needed her more. Had to get closer. He grabbed her ass to lift her up closer to where his erection met her center, holding her thigh so she could wrap her leg around his waist.

"Christ Daryl," she moaned in his ear, her warm breath making his dick twitch. With a groan, Daryl pulled away. If he'd continued any longer he's have taken her right there in the hallway.

He rested his forehead against hers as they both stared at each other and trying to steady their breathing.

"I gotta go," Daryl finally said, his reluctance more than evident. But just before he moved she leaned into his ear.

"You are a really good kisser," she pressed another kiss against his cheek before opening the bedroom door. With one last look, she shut the door feeling like a giddy teenager rather than a thirty year old mom.

Daryl on the other hand felt nothing less than euphoric! Like he could take on an entire herd if necessary. On top of the world, he settled on that cot and slept better than he had in months.


	5. Chapter 5 - Flashback (I Value Your Opin

Flashback: Farm after Dale's Death

* * *

"Mister Daryl?" Grace walked out to his camp. He was still set up off in the distance, away from everyone. He'd moved out here after Sophia, but now with Dale dead, and the Randall issue he figured he'd be moving back soon. Later today or tomorrow.

"Ya shouldn't be out here kid," he sent her a warning glance.

"I have to! I need to ask you...no, I don't...it's just." the little girl began stammering and looking down, kicking at the dirt.

"Spit it out kid," he looked up from what he was doing. Grace didn't usually hem and haw so it actually got his attention.

"It's just. If someone you know did something bad and you know about it. Should you say?" Grace was obviously struggling and her eyes pooled with unshed tears.

"What the hell did Carl do now, kid?" Daryl was now pissed. That kid was always into something and now he obviously dragged Grace into it.

Christ, Carl still had two parents and neither of them ever had a clue where he was or what he was doing. Emory always knew where Grace was. In fact, he saw her over by the tents, hanging laundry and periodically glancing their way.

"He took your gun. I wanted to tell, but Carl called me a baby and a tattle tale,..." she started crying. "I went to the creek with him and there was this walker stuck. It was the one that killed Dale. When Carl started throwing rocks at it, I got scared and ran away and Carl called me a chicken. But that was when the walker got away and Carl fell down. So I ran back and hit the walker with a branch and we both ran." Grace was consumed with guilt as she rattled of the details that had been consuming her with guilt.

"Goddamn it! That little fucker!" he yelled and stomped over to his bike to check his bag. Sure enough his 9-mil was gone.

"Come on, let's get ya back to yer mom," Daryl pulled the girl along behind him and she struggled to keep pace with Daryl's furious steps.

"Are you mad at me, Mister Daryl? Am I in trouble?" tears were streaming down her face and she held his hand even tighter.

Daryl hated the tears, but it was the look on Grace's face - so sad and afraid. He stopped and knelt down in front of her and pulled out a rag to dry her eyes.

"Now you listen to me. I'm pissed! Really pissed! But I ain't pissed at you. You saved Carl's sorry ass and ya also told me the truth. But I still gotta talk to Rick about what Carl did," he stood up, then felt Grace slip her tiny hand into his filthy one again. "What he did put you both in danger," his gut clenched at what might have happened out it the swamp. He didn't even mention Dale. The kid already was broken up enough.

-/-/:::/

* * *

"Daryl?" it was dark and slightly chilly when Emory walked out to his camp.

"What ya doing out here so late fer?" he worried about her walking around at night by herself.

"I wanted to talk to you. Hershel's letting us move into the house for winter. Are you coming?" she asked him, immediately getting embarrased when his eyes snapped up to stare at her. Suddenly she became self-conscious about wearing her nightclothes, pulling her hoodie a little tighter. Her yoga pants hung low on her hips revealing a thin sliver of skin.

"What I really wanted to talk about is Gracie. She told me about Carl taking your gun...and the walker in the creek. Christ? What was she thinking?" Emory's emotions were all over the place. "She could have been killed," Grace ran a desperate hand through her long hair, the expensive layers and highlights long since faded and grown out.

"She's a good kid. Smart too. Saved Carl's scrawny ass," was all Daryl could think to say, so he kept sharpening his bolts.

"Thanks for taking care of it with Rick. I tried to talk to Lori about it but she either snaps at me or is too busy." Emory sighed in frustration at the recollection of her earlier conversation.

"But Rick talked to Carl. Hopefully he got through to him. I know he's not a bad kid. I just think he is so desperate for attention. From any of them. But it's getting so I'm not comfortable letting Grace play with Carl." She stood there thinking for a while, seemingly fascinated by this stray cuticle on her left ringer.

"I was thinking maybe I should take her out and teach her to shoot. What do you think?" Emory bit her lip, missing her parents so badly when it came to things like this.

"The hell ya asking me for?" his words were harsh, but his tone let her know he was more perplexed she was asking him and not pissed.

Emory just laughed. "I just have a hard time accepting that she's not a baby any more. I always have. If it wasn't for my parents she'd probably still be eating baby food. But instead she's gutting squirrels," she stated proudly.

"You don't treat her like I do. You teach her things that I'd have sworn were too complicated or mature." Emory looked over at his face glowing from the embers of his small fire.

"I'm not asking you to teach her, I just value your opinion." Emory sat beside him on the log and joined him in staring at the fire. Daryl was astounded. She valued his opinion on raising her kid? Him? A white trash, bigoted, stupid redneck who didn't even graduate higj school?

"Well," Daryl began thoughtfully, picturing Grace having to shoot to protect herself. "Rick and Lori let Shane teach Carl. And Grace is much more responsible. She was good instincts and more sense than some of the adults around camp that are carrying. I guarantee you, if Grace'd known how to shoot the other day, she'd have killed that walker." Daryl stroked his goatee as he thought more about it. "I'd feel kinda better knowing she can protect herself if necessary.". Emory's head spun around at the warmth and caring in his voice. She wondered if he even realized it.

"We need to get her something that will fit her smaller hands. Something light," Daryl was suddenly thinking over their arsenal wondering if there was anything that would suit. Maybe the revolver he'd taken from the guy who opted out in the tent?

"Come on. I'll walk ya back," he stood up and dusted off his pants.

"You don't have to," she protested, though she sort of hoped he insisted. And he did.

Silently they walked back to camp and  
Emory felt a warmth flood throughout. It was the way Daryl had said 'WE need to..'. Not 'YOU need to or YOU should'. He'd said WE. And for a little while Emory didn't feel quite so alone.


	6. Chapter 6 - Flashback (Daryl's Been Shot

"Daryl's been shot!" Emory heard the screams and commotion right after she heard the crack of a shotgun firing from somewhere within the camp.

"Mom?" Grace pulled on her hand, her face full of terror. "Is Mister Daryl ok?"

"Come with me," Emory threw the wet clothes back in the basket and ran towards the Greene house where Rick and Shane were carrying Daryl inside. Emory and Grace ran hand in hand towards the house, joining the others who had gathered around to find out what happened.

"Oh my God!" Emory bit her fist as the idea of a world without Daryl Dixon hit her in the gut like a sucker punch. "What happened to Daryl?"

"I shot him. It was an accident. I thought he was a walker," Andrea couldn't look at anyone as she fessed up. She felt like shit and prayed Daryl would be ok. It was the look of pain and loss not only in Emory's eyes but also Grace's that cut her to the core. Andrea choked back a sob, thankful for Dale who pulled her into his arms.

"Mommy?" Grace's eyes were frantic at the news. Emory looked down at her baby and realized just how important Daryl had become to her daughter. And if she was honest, he had become just as important to her.

"Stay here! I'll see if I can  
go find out how he is," Emory had Grace stay put on the porch then raced up the stairwell.

"Is he ok?" she begged Patricia for information as the woman left the room with a tray full of bloody medical equipment.

"The bullet just grazed him thankfully, but he does have a nasty wound where his arrow went through his side. That crazy man managed to pull it out himself and then used it to kill a walker," Patricia said with a mixture of admiration and concern. Patricia also had a good idea that something was going on between Emory Phillips and Daryl Dixon.

"And? Will he be ok?" Emory begged Patricia to tell her what she needed to hear.

"Yes. He'll need a few days rest but he'll likely put up a fuss. That man is stubborn..." she let her voice trail off as she watched Emory sigh in relief.

"He is, isn't he!" Emory sighed in relief once Patricia left. Her knees suddenly weakened beneath her and she felt herself sliding down against the wall, unable to support herself.

"Whoa there!" Emory felt herself being lifted up by a pair of impossibly strong arms.

"Shane!" she exclaimed as she looked into his handsome face. It was the deadness and cruelty in his eyes that chilled her to the bone.

"Ya ok?" his voice held concern, but his eyes were busy taking in every inch of her. He held her just a little too tight, his touch a little too sensual. And after what happened at the CDC she didn't trust him any further than she could throw him.

"I'm fine! I just was wondering how Daryl was doing!" she pushed his hands off and walked away, eager to find Grace and tell her the good news.

Shane stared at her ass as she walked away. He wanted her. Ever since Rick returned, Shane had set his sights on Emory. But every time she looked at him he felt her loathing and it ate away at him.

He had always been the object of a woman's lust and attraction. But not her. Never her. it was as if she could somehow see into all the dark parts of his soul. He normally would have just told himself she was a lezzie or something. But to then find her sniffing around that meth'ed out piece of trash up there. Let her daughter hang around with Daryl but not him? He needed to teach her a lesson. But not now. No! He'd watch and wait for the right time.

-/::::-

* * *

"Hey you! How are ya feelin'?" Emory tried to maintain her smile and casual tone, in spite of what it did to her seeing how bruised and beat up he was.

"Like I told Carol. 'Bout as good as I look," He sighed and pulled the sheet up higher so she couldn't see the scars on his chest.

Emory sat down on the chair beside the bed, looking over at the untouched plate.

"Not hungry?" her face was suddenly tight and drawn with worry as she took in how pale he was.

"Tired is all," he struggled to sit up so he could see her better. She was wearing an off-white linen dress that was fitted tightly on top then flared at the tight waist. It probably had been white at one time but after years of wear, it had obviously faded. But on Emory, it looked perfect. It looked soft and he felt like he needed to touch it. Her long legs were bare underneath and even her feet were bare since she flipped off her flats which sat over beside the chair. She must have even painted her toenails at some point judging by the dark pink tips.

"Here," she pulled the tray over to help him eat. Finally satisfied he was eating, she spoke.

"Are you up for another visitor? There's someone else that has been dying to see you," Emory asked, yet cautious so as to not overwhelm him.

"Sure. Ain't no big deal," he answered nonchalantly, feeling better with a few bites of food in him. He watched as Emory smiled then threw open the bedroom door. Before he knew it, her daughter Grace was bounding in carrying a bowl of warm peach cobbler.

"Hi Mister Daryl. Look what I brought you!" she proudly held up the bowl of peachy deliciousness and offered it to him.

"Dang gerl! Ya better be plannin' on sharin' dat with me," Daryl had a unique ability to connect with Grace. He never treated her like a kid and Grace blossomed under his attention, never having experienced it from anyone other than her grandpa.

"No silly. It's all for you!" she climbed onto the bed and sat beside him, lifting the spoon to feed him, an instinctive caregiver.

"Careful Gracie! Mister Daryl is hurt," Emory kept a watchful eye on both of them.

"She's alright," Daryl grunted then winked at Grace as she kept feeding him the cobbler.

"You know you're setting a bad precedent. Eating dessert before you finished your dinner," Emory pretended to scold Daryl, while her heart soared at the endearing sight in front of her. Grace's father never would have done this. Of course the image if her ex with an arrow and gunshot wound was not unappealing.

"Yeah! That's cause I ain't dumb. Ya always eat dessert first if you can get away with it. That way you don't get too full first and not have enough room later." Daryl explained in complete seriousness which only made Grace devolve into another fit of giggles.

"Grace? Would you take this back out to Miss Carol?" she passed her daughter the now empty tray of food.

"Yes Mommy. Goodbye Mister Daryl! Hope ya feel better," Grace hesitated for a second. Then she leaned over to kiss Daryl's shoulder and quickly turned to leave.

"Thank you for finding Sophia's doll. I know you're going to find her soon!" And with that the little girl was gone.

"Grace thinks the world of you. Thank you for being so nice to her. I know kids can be annoying," Emory looked away, not wanting Daryl to pick up on her embarrassment.

"Daryl? What you're doing for Sophia? For Carol? Carol is over the moon tonight! You've given us all hope! Grace misses Sophia so much." Emory stood up, preparing to leave him alone.

Daryl watched her as she prepared to leave, somewhere in his psyche wondering if she would stay. If he asked her. But he dismissed it as side effects from the pain killers Hershel gave him. And then she was gone.


	7. Chapter 7 - Next Stop, The Fish Camp

"Sorry guys! I know you're all tired and I know this isn't exactly the kind of place we've been looking for," Rick had been better lately about

* * *

controlling his Ricktatorship tendencies. So much so that Emory wondered if Daryl had said something to him about her worries.

"I'm good, Rick," Glenn answered and everyone else piped up to agree. "Got me a belly full of food, and I'm still here with all of you." The nights were getting colder, so everyone was hunkered up as close to the small fire as they could get with getting a face full of smoke or singed eyebrows.

"Well said Glenn," Emory agreed as she greedily spooned another bite of rabbit stew into her mouth. They'd been here at this fish camp since yesterday. Daryl had been the one that found it far off the beaten path and very isolated up in the Smoky Mountains. However, it was definitely intended to be a "roughing-it" type of place.

"To Daryl and Carol!" everyone raised their bowls in a thankful salute while Daryl and Carol looked down, both still uncomfortable with such public praise.

Grace was eating just as heartily, sitting between her mom and Daryl on the big log in front of the glowing firepit.

"After what we've been seeing, I think we can pretty much exclude hospitals, except to scavenge for supplies and medicine. They're just too overrun," Rick forced the conversation back to brainstorming ideas for the best longterm place to stay.

"Maybe a senior living facility?" Emory thought intently and spoke up.

"Ya mean an old folks home?" Daryl piped up, actually joking around and making a face at Grace. Carol's eyes narrowed as she took in the oddly tender display. Sure Daryl had been changing ever since Merle had been left, but something was different with Daryl these past two days. And it made her anxious.

"Yes, an old folks home. They have to be secure so their residents don't wander off, don't they? It'd likely be dormitory style with a kitchen and medical facilities," Emory still thought it had promise.

"Before my grandma died, she stayed in this really nice place back in Michigan. We had to check in at the front desk and get buzzed in just to get to her room. And they also had this really nice yard in the middle with fountains and benches. My Gigi loved it in the courtyard," Glenn lost himself in the nostalgia, with Maggie resting her head on his shoulder and giving him a gentle hug.

"That's a good idea. A lot of towns will likely have something like that." Rick liked that the others were starting to believe they could really do this. "Nobody wants to have to drive hours to visit grandma or grandpa."

"God, I miss the internet!" Emory suddenly lamented, frustrated by the slow progress "It would have been so easy to just do a Google search and have thousands of places within seconds. We could also search sales records and building permits for any large homes or facilities with fenced in property."

"I wouldn't mind having satellite views either so we could figure out where these damn herds are going. Find a way around their meandering asses," T-Dog joined in lamenting the loss of the valuable technology.

"Ya'll city folks!" Daryl shook his head and responded, ever the realist.

-/-/-

The cabins were very rustic. Basically, they were just twelve foot cubes with a single filthy window. But they were made of sturdy cinder blocks and had metal doors. One of the cubes on the end housed utilitarion showers and toilets, that amazingly still had running water and flush toilets, but not surprisingly there was no hot water.

Most importantly the cabin area was fenced, with a sturdy 8-ft chain link fence. Emory wondered if maybe it had been used as a Scouting retreat. Or maybe one of those camps for troubled kids? Whatever the reason, Emory was grateful to have one more barrier between her and the walkers. She'd helped walk the perimeter yesterday to look for any breaches and it had been surprisingly secure. And empty.

Emory looked down at her sleeping daughter's face, a sliver of moonlight illuminating her profile. Emory sighed and stared in gratitude that her girl was still here. One more day! Alive and able to have fun. Just tonight Grace had returned, bouncing off the walls after spending the evening catching fireflies with Carl. Carol had saved some of the mason jars and Grace talked Daryl into puncturing holes in the lids so the flies wouldn't suffocate. Of course before he knew it, he'd been roped in to helping. The kids didn't realize it, but Daryl was actually turned it into a lesson and ended up teaching them how to move silently under the guise of catching fireflies.

But now, Emory was lying by her daughter in bed and she had this mason jar full of unhappy, pissed-off fireflies buzzing by her ear. It was kind of an interesting night light though, she thought as she watched the sporadic activity in fascination,

She couldn't take it anymore. The noise and erratic light was driving her crazy. Emory grabbed the jar and slipped outside, stepping over to the side of the concrete landing that served as the front porch. Quickly she opened the jar, releasing the poor flies. "Fly away! Be free!" she whispered.

"Whatcha doing up at this hour?" his husky voice came up behind her, leaving no doubt as to who it belonged to.

She twisted her head around to acknowledge him. "Just doing my good deed for the day," she laughed at the confused look on his face.

"I'm freeing the fireflies that Grace caught tonight. The constant buzzing was driving me nuts, so it wasn't entirely out of the goodness of my heart," Emory realized she was babbling again. Why do I keep doing that? Why can't I just be laid back and cool? Nonchalant? Sultry? Sultry, where did that come from?

To Emory's surprise he just leaned against the wall of her cabin and watched her finish, reaching her fingers in to periodically help the stragglers.

See! He could do it, she pointed out to herself. She'd watched him lean often enough and had to admit that he had a great lean. It had likely served him well in high school. Emory wondered if Daryl had bothered to wear shirt sleeves when he was in high school, or if he cut them off like now.

"Are you on watch now?" That was brilliant, she mocked herself sarcastically. For years her life revolved around nightly parties where she spent entire evenings making witty repartee with diplomats, CEO's and government officials. Now, with Daryl, she could barely put together a single coherent sentence

"Not till later," Daryl kept leaning, his eyes watching every move she made.

"I've got the 3:00-6:00 again," she lamented, wishing she either had first shift or last. Middle sucked. Rick usually put her with Maggie or T-Dog. And since Carol cooked and wasn't a great shot and Lori was pregnant, neither of them usually had nightwatch duty.

"Me too," Daryl still hadn't moved. He enjoyed just watching her, especially when she got flustered. And he was starting to notice she became flustered around him.

They hadn't been alone since that night in the cellar. They'd literally been sleeping in their cars until Daryl had found this place. But Emory got the strange feeling that this time, Daryl was enjoying how flustered she was - that he was doing it on purpose. Prolonging the tension.

She decided enough was enough. She wasn't a vestal virgin for Chrissakes. She was a grown woman. With needs. She slowly sauntered over to him and stood as close as she could to him without actually touching him.

"So, I guess we should go to bed, don't you think?" she leaned in to whisper. He felt her warm breath tickling in his ear, swallowing hard to maintain control. She slowly pulled away, loving the look of desire and shock on his face. Now, who was flustered?

Emory desperately wanted to kiss him. In fact she craved it and was barely able to control herself, but it didn't seem right after her coy little display.

And with a last wistful glance, she shut the door.

* * *

Daryl groaned after she shut the door and he walked next door to his cabin. Why didn't he kiss her? He kicked his boots off and plopped onto the bed. He squeezed his eyes shut and tried to corral all the competing dialogue going on his head.

'Yer such a pansy Darleena! What are ya? A faggot?' Merle's voice raged while his own voice also spoke.

'Her kid was right there in the room! She ain't just some piece 'a ass neither.'

'O'course she's a piece of ass. S'all any of 'em are good for.'

'Fuck you Merle! Ya don't know shit,' and with that Daryl shut his eyes.


	8. Chapter 8 - Flashback (That's Randall)

Flashback: After Sophia's Death and during Hershel's bender at Hatlands

* * *

"You're afraid! You're alone! Ya ain't got no husband. No daughter! Sophia wasn't mine! All ya had to do was keep an eye on her!" Daryl's angry yet hurt voice echoed in her memory. For a split second yesterday evening she had been afraid Daryl was going to actually hit Carol. The way Carol flinched but still held her ground was heartbreaking... For both of them.

She'd initially been worried when Carol had marched out to talk to Dary, so Emory decided to follow her. She had partly been afraid Carol would say something to Daryl and it would be the final straw that pushed him over the edge and made him leave the group. Not that she could really blame him. The crazy had really been escalating.

Sophia's death yesterday was still so raw and painful to everyone but Emory couldn't understand why Carol didn't come to the funeral. In fact, Carol had yet to go to her grave but she could go check on Daryl?

Emory forced herself to recognize that people mourn differently. And, good lord willing, she would never experience what Carol was going through. If anything ever happened to Grace, she wasn't sure what she would do. If she could go on living. So who was she to judge Carol?

Grace had been there when Sophia stumbled out of the barn and watched in horror when Rick shot her. She'd been devastated and was inconsolable last night so Emory snuggled up beside her for hours humming lullabies that Grace usually complained were too 'baby' for her, but they comforted her last night. Grace still woke up three times from the nightmares, immediately seeking out her mom who was right there holding her and stroking her hair.

But Rick, Hershel and Glenn were still missing. Lori got back late at night, covered in cuts and bruises but otherwise ok. Except for the bombshell that Shane had revealed to everyone. That Lori was pregnant.

They were going to have to go find Rick and Glenn today. They must have run into some sort of trouble in town and Emory was the one selected to go with Shane. Which was why she had trekked out to Daryl's tent.

"I told ya and Olive Oil, I was done looking fer folks." Daryl didn't even look up from the sticks he was busy carving into lethal points.

"I know. You've already done far more than your share and I know you're side isn't even close to being completely healed. That's not why I'm here." Emory came over and leaned against the old stonework to face him.

"I was just hoping maybe you'd come back to the farm, just for a bit and keep an eye on things." Emory hesitated before she continued. "on Grace."

"What the hell? Now YOU cain't even watch over yer own kid either?" but as soon as the words left his mouth his gut began putting things together. She wasn't asking him to go after Rick, because she was going.

"Shane's putting some things together to go find Rick and Glenn. I got picked to go with hin" she mumbled, hating to be leaving Grace to go on this little expedition.

"T-Dog and Andrea are still disposing of the bodies so I'd feel better if you were back in camp?" Emory asked tentatively. "Keeping an eye on things."

Daryl absorbed the information as rushes of emotions swirled in his head. Fury, anger, frustration! Fuck that. She WAS NOT going with Shane and leaving her little girl behind.

"Ya ain't going with that crazy fuck!" Daryl slammed up off the tree stump and stomped forward. "In case ya don't recall, the last one that did didn't come back!"

"I have to! It's Rick and Glenn...and Herschel," she stammered, still shocked by his outburst at her.

"The geezer that ran off and left his family to go on a bender, and now we're risking more lives to bring him back!" Daryl was still reeling from the loss of Sophia and to have the group so cavalierly risk more lives over such foolishness was too much for him to handle.

"That 'geezer' took us into his home! Gave us food and shelter. Provided medical care." Emory's hackles were raised, in spite of Daryl's intimidating glare.

"Whatever! Nevermind! Just forget I asked," Emory spun on her heel and headed back to the house, furiously stomping.

"Ya ain't going nowhere! I'll go with Shane!" Daryl grabbed her by the arm to spin her back.

"I can't let you do that. You're still hurt," Emory's were still wide with astonishment at his change of heart.

"I'm fine. I said I'm going," and with that he let go of her arm to gather his gun, knives and crossbow.

Emory stole a glance at the firm set to Daryl's face as they walked back. What was he thinking? Why was he doing this?

"Daryl? When you come back, will you consider moving back to camp with the rest of us?" Emory was scared she was pressing her luck but the words were out of mouth before she could stop herself.

"The fuck you care where I stay?" Daryl snapped, but was taken a bit aback by the spark of something that felt strangely nice. That it mattered to Emory where he stayed.

"I just... It's just...you're one of us. And it's not the same with you not there. I don't like the way it feels without you," Emory realized just how much she had revealed.

"And Grace misses you," Emory knew she was being a coward by using her daughter. It was true though, Grace did miss Daryl being so far away, but Emory missed him too.

Daryl slowed down and glanced over to get a better look at Emory. The sun was just peaking up over the tree line and glistening off Emory's hair in honey highlights. And he swore her cheeks held a reddish hue.

"I dunno. S'ppose I could... if it bothers the kid an' all," Daryl mumbled and felt his own face redden. Fortunately, they'd reached the car where Shane was loading it with supplies.

At that moment they saw the old Suburban come racing up the dusty farm roads. Within seconds Hershel, Rick and Glenn jumped out of the car to greet loved ones. Except Glenn who coldly brushed off Maggie's embrace.

Emory just stood by Daryl thinking things just kept getting crazier. Until T-Dog finally noticed there was a bleeding kid tied up in the back.

"Who the hell is that?" T-Dog looked confused and irritated.

"That's Randall," Glenn said.


	9. Chapter 9 - Flashback (To Kill or Not)

Flashback: Before Randall's Execution

* * *

"I agree with Dale!" Emory stood firm in spite of Shane's intimidating presence. "And that's what I'm going to tell Rick."

"Don't you even care about your daughter? Men like that'll rape you then rape her!" Shane snarled at her, but quickly realized using her daughter had been a very poor strategic move.

"#1, You do not get to bring up Grace or her well-being. And #2, this decision is because of Grace. This world is devolving. And we cannot allow the Randalls that we come acrosd turn US into the murderers. And make no mistake, that is what it will be. Murder! NOT self-defense. And killing Randall does nothing to protect us from this group or any other groups out there. A group that has likely already moved on," Emory spoke rapidly and passionately, wondering if it was remotely possible to get through to Shane's humanity anymore.

"You and your bleeding hearts are gonna get us ALL killed, ya spoiled delusional..." Shane couldn't even finish as he spat at the ground knowing all Rick would need were a few more voices like hers and he'd pussy out. Bring a shitstorm right to their doorstep. Get Lori and Carl killed. Get his baby killed.

"Shane? You're a policeman. Or you were. Since when did you become a murderer? Was it when Rick joined us? Or since Otis?" Emory knew she was pushing Shane too far, and revealing her suspicions. But the idea of letting him kill another person without trying to stop him was more than she could take. No! She had to stop him.

At first she'd expected he was going to hit her and she began to brace for it. But then he got control, an evil, darkness in his eyes. He stepped forward and pinned her against the barn, settling firmly between her legs and grabbed both her wrists, holding them over her head with one hand, leaving his other free.

He slowly reached down and shoved his hands down the front of her jeans. Emory bucked and began to kick and scream frantically against Shane, unable to believe this was really happening to her.

"Shane! Stop! You don't want to do this!" she did her best to plead with him. "This isn't you! You beat up Ed for this! Please don't! It's not who you are!"

"Oh, you are so wrong. I've wanted to do this for a very long time. In fact, I gave you yer chance but you just want to give it up to that redneck piece of shit," Shane's hand was now up and under her shirt.

"Get the fuck off of her! Now! Or this bolt goes right through yer skull," Daryl had moved in behind them, his crossbow aimed and only some five feet from his skull.

Shane froze and turned his head to see Daryl right there, his crossbow right in his face. The look on Daryl's face told him he'd seen and heard everything.

"Ya cain't really think someone like her would actually be into you?" Shane began spewing his filth. "She's just manipulatin' you."

"Don't matter. Ya ain't ever gonna touch her again. What Shane? Ya only attracted to women who know yer an asshole? First Lori? Now Em'ry? You'd best make other plans Shane. I cain't imagine Rick's gonna want you to stay around after he hears about this," Daryl's blood was boiling, but his hands stilled with steely composure and decades of practice.

Shane jerked away and stood there heaving, his face cold and evil and it chilled Emory to the bone. This Shane was capable of doing anything. She held her breath as Shane and Daryl just faced each other down. But finally Shane jerked away and marched off into the woods, hopefully to cool off.

"Oh God!" Emory collapsed and slid down the barn wall, sobs shaking her body.

"Yer ok!" Daryl pulled her up, stiffening slightly when she wrapped herself around him. "He ain't ever gonna hurt ya...or Grace!" Daryl ground out fiercely, realizing how intense and deep his feelings were for both of them.

"Oh God! I didn't have my gun. I was just going to get the laundry. I never thought..." Emory cried, but then he felt her stiffen.

"I was stupid and I can't help Grace..,I can't keep her safe if I do stupid things!" Emory verbally and emotionally berated herself.

"Ya weren't stupid and Hershel was the one who didn't let ya carry. And ya were supposed to be safe around Shane." Daryl soothed her, awkwardly running his hands up and down her back, able to feel her warm skin through the thin fabric.

"I don't care what Hershel says. Ya keep this with ya until I get yers back fer ya!" Daryl's eyes glinted, and Emory was tempted to just stare and let herself get lost it them. Instead she nodded gratefully and tucked the revolver into her jeans and under her shirt.

"I have to go talk ta Rick!" Daryl pulled her chin up to look at her. Her eyes were damp but she nodded her agreement. He watched in admiration as her strength and fierce determination returned.

"Daryl. Thanks! I don' know what...and what Shane said about me and..you, it's not true," Emory started but Daryl stopped her.

"Just go get yer girl. I'll take care of the rest!" Daryl swore and Emory had no doubt he would.

"


	10. Chapter 10 - I Gotta Feeling

Daryl sat on top of the roof while Emory patrolled the yard. It wouldn't be long before there shift was over. Maybe he could talk to her then. Then he saw them. They were like a dark blob moving together in the herd. There were too many! Within seconds he silently slid off the roof and ran to Emory.

"Get Grace and get in yer truck! Right now!" Daryl shoved her ahead, knowing they didn't have long. Maybe five minutes.

Like a well-trained unit everyone exploded into action, immediately waking up and getting in their cars and racing back down the mountain in search of safety. Rick was the lead car with Daryl pulling up the rear in his 'new' truck. His bike could be too loud, so they'd 'acquired' an F150 to carry the bike, but still kept the bike for those occasions when it was advantageous to get around tight spots.

Grace was still half asleep when Emory hustled her into the SUV, quickly tossing the few belongings they carried with them in the back.

"Mommy? Did you bring my fireflies?" Grace rubbed her eyes as she slowly woke up. Sadly, tonight was nothing out of the ordinary. They'd had to run for their lives in the middle of the night at least a dozen times.

"No sweetie. I set them free," Emory realized it made her sound so much more altruistic than she'd actually been. Screw it! Sometimes a mom takes what she can get.

"Mommy? Do you like Mister Daryl?" Grace turned those gray eyes on Emory and waited.

"Gracie? Where is this coming from? Of course I like Mister Daryl?" Emory dodged the question and prepared to bob and weave.

"I mean, LIKE him, Like him," Grace made googly eyes and grabbed her heart with all the exaggeration typical of a pre-teen.

"I like Mister Daryl. He's a good man and he's been super nice to you!" Emory did her best to respond maturely and age appropriately.

"It's just that Carl heard Miss Lori and Miss Carol talking. Carol said you have no business seducing Mister Daryl. Because you still have a daughter," Grace revealed. "I think Miss Carol is just jealous because she likes Mister Daryl but he likes you" Grace kept spilling the gossip.

"Carol said that? She said 'seduce'? And why do you think Carol likes Daryl?" Emory was just beginning to realize her daughter was privy to quite a bit of information.

"Well, she's always washing his clothes and bringing him food ...and watching him. She watches him all the time, especially when he's with you. Carol said you should be more concerned with me and less interested in making time with Daryl," Grace finished, starting to feel worried when her mom began to frown.

"Grace? What if I did like Mister Daryl? How would you feel? Would you feel neglected?" Emory immediately began worrying if this was Gracie's cry for more attention because she was afraid.

"No way! I think it would be awesome if you and Mister Daryl were together!" Grace exclaimed, "Kissie type together!" Grace clarified as she emphasized her point with more googly eyes and fish lips.

"Gracie Anne!" Emory accused in exasperation. "You know he probably doesn't like me like that." she explained, feeling a little depressed and sad.

"But you are so pretty and he loves you! I just know it!" Grace was crestfallen at the look of resignation and self-doubt on her mom's beautiful face.

"Sweetie! Carol was right about one thing. You are, and will always be, my number one priority. My number one love!" Emory re-stated yet forcing her to ask herself important questions. Was there room in her life for a romantic love? In this world?

"Do you think Daryl doesn't want to be your boyfriend because of me?" Grace's voice began to crack and her lower lip quivered.

"Of course not Grace. Who could not want and love you. Any guy that felt that way would have to be stupid. Or mentally challenged. And can you see me getting kissie face with someone like that?" Emory explained as best she could and reached a hand over to sweep back some escaped tendrils on her daughter's cheek.

"Mom? I just think it would be cool if Mister Daryl kissed you like Mister Glenn kisses Maggie." Grace pouted and looked so forlorn. And it broke Emory's heart. She'd gone on a few dates after her divorce, but as soon as her responsibilities as a mother interfered with their social agenda, it came to a screeching halt.

"Baby. I know you like Daryl. But we can't just glomb onto him. Are you maybe afraid that I can't keep you safe. Is that what all this is about?" Emory looked at her daughter, disgusted by what this world was doing to the psyches of everyone, but more so on the children. On her daughter.

"No! That's not it. It's just that when he watches you. It's nice. And when you look at him, your eyes change. They get all glowy," Grace tried to explain but finally decided to let it go. She sat there silently staring out her window wondering how on earth her mom could be so blind to things that were so obvious.

Emory was also silent as they drove, lost in thought about Grace and what she said. She decided they could both use a change of subject

"I think we need some tunes," she glanced over at Grace who reluctantly grinned back and handed her the iPhone. She plugged it into the car's sound system and within seconds the car reverberated with the rhythmic bass and autotuned voices of The Blackeyed Peas.

Then at the top of her voice, she began singing along word for word with Grace who excitedly joined in, dancing in her seat and waving her hands to I Gotta Feeling, laughing even moru when Emory screwed up.

Go out and smash it  
(Smash it)  
Like oh my God  
(Like oh my God)  
Jump off that sofa  
(Come on! )  
Let's get, get off

Fill up my cup  
(Drank)  
Mazel tov  
(L'chaim)  
Look at her dancing  
(Move it, move it)  
Just take it off

Let's paint the town  
(Paint the town)  
We'll shut it down  
(Let's shut it down)  
Let's burn the roof  
(Whoooo)  
And then we'll do it again

And by the end of the song they were both laughing hysterically as they both belted out the end of the dance tune. This had been their 'thing' ever since the song first came out, and they would sing it word for word during their drives to gymnastics or dance or whatever the daily activity was.

And in that moment she could almost pretend things were normal.


	11. Chapter 11 - Shelter from the storm

They'd been on the run for a week since they'd lost the fish camp...and other than their brief flirtation on the porch...she and Daryl had never once been alone. It had been non-stop scrambling and fighting every day and the nights were spent sleeping in their cars. And Emory's least favorite part: Peeing and, even worse, pooping behind the bushes.

And the pace and relentless adrenaline was once again wearing on all of them, especially Lori. Lori was looking horribly gaunt and frail, not to mention the tempers that had started flaring.

"Mommy? I'm hungry," Gracie looked up at Emory. "Do we have anything?"

"Check in here. I think there are some peaches or pears," Emory reached her arm around behind her seat to grab her backpack.

"I'll go hunting later with Mister Daryl when we find a place to stop." Emory prayed they'd find something soon. They still had some of the jars of food they'd taken with them from the cellar, but feeding so many quickly depleted most of it.

They were still having trouble getting north. The herds seemed to be migrating or something. Not only that but the herds were getting even bigger. Often too big to consider passing.

Emory slowed down as she saw Rick signal for them to stop. "I'll be right back baby. You know the drill." She walked over to the group, pulling her jacket a little tighter as the wind blew right through it. Her thick chestnut braid flopped over her shoulder as the wind blew a bunch of tendrils loose.

Daryl peeked over at Emory, intrigued by the loose hairs that danced around her neck in the wind and couldn't help but smirk when she failed to tame them with her hand. But her face was losing some of it's fullness and her jeans no longer hugged her ass the way they used to back at the farm. He recalled how Merle would openly admire her ass, making it his personal cause to make sure they were fed. It frustrated him even more because he knew she was frequently giving a good share of her food to Grace and Lori.

Again Emory stood back and listened while the others looked over the tattered map, desperate for any route north they hadn't already tried. But one glance back at Grace and then at Lori and she couldn't hold back.

"Rick? We can't go on like this! Sleeping in our cars. We need to find a place to rest a few days or maybe a week...or longer. The kids are starving. And exhausted. We all are. I don't care if it's a shack. We could scavenge some food and just take a few days to regroup?" Emory didn't mean to sound so desperate but the fact was, she was desperate. "Even if it's not the ideal place. Maybe something good enough is ok for a few nights?"

Rick took a deep breath and looked around him. It was early winter, probably around Thanksgiving,and it was already taking it's toll on everyone and the faces that were all staring back at him were bleak and exhausted and defeated. Emory was right. They couldn't go on like this all winter searching for some mythical fortress that might not exist. If they did, they'd be too exhausted to do what needed to be done if they did miraculously find something.

"What does everyone else think?" Rick sighed and waited. Rick had to admit that he'd been pushing everyone, likely beyond their limits. But so far nobody had complained. Emory was the only person willing to even try and offer another opinion.

"I'm with Emory. I think we need to rest and regroup or I'm worried one of us will make a mistake," T-Dog spoke up, coming over to give Emory's shoulders a friendly squeeze, oblivious to the glare he was receiving from Daryl.

"Rick? Lori needs this too. She needs far more food and more sleep," Hershel pulled Rick off to the side. Rick felt the weight of all his responsibility crushing him and was forced to accept that he was failing his wife and Carl and the baby.

Emory watched Hershel leave Rick after their discussion and was taken aback by the look of utter defeat and despair on Rick's face. Cautiously she approached.

"Rick? You don't have to do it all, you know. This isn't all on you! Let us carry some of the weight ok? We need you too much to lose you to exhaustion." Emory placed a friendly hand on Rick's arm.

"Thanks Em. And thanks for speaking up. You're the only one that seems willing to anymore," Rick had to accept that he had pretty much intimidated the others into silent acquiescence. Except for Daryl, of course. When Daryl had told him that Emory had been afraid he'd kick her and her daughter out, he'd had to do some serious soul searching.

"We're both just parents trying to protect the people we love, the best way we know how," she smiled at Rick sympathetically. To her surprise, Rick pulled her into a big hug.

"Thanks Em! I guess we should go see if we can find us some supplies and a place to stay for tonight!" Rick was only slightly less depressed as he walked back to join the group. With another study of the map, they unanimously decided to head south. The complete opposite direction of the Rabun-Gap prep school.

* * *

"Wow! Will you a look at this place?" Lori exclaimed as Emory helped her up the steep entry stairs. Sure, it was technically a log cabin. But that was the only thing rustic about it. Soaring vaulted ceilings and large glass windows dominated the giant living room and Emory swore that was Chihuly glass hanging in the entryway. A gigantic fireplace big enough to stand in dominated the great room and would be a godsend on the freezing cold nights.

The house was set up on stilts some 15-20 ft high with a large balcony along the entire rear of the house that overlooked the roaring whitewater from the river out back. That whitewater would offer protection from one side and after they boarded up the stairwells and garage doors, the walkers wouldn't be able to touch them. It was essentially a gigantic treehouse. Like Swiss Family Robinson meets Donald Trump.

Emory knew they might to have to considor boarding up those gorgeous windows if they wanted to be extra cautious, but that was low on their priorities right now. They still needed to secure all the entrances.

"Daryl and Emory, Maggie and Glenn ...I still need ya'll to go on a supply run. We need more food, but also some lumber and tools to really secure this place," Rick laid out their basic needs.

Emory sighed and nodded before leaving to check on Grace. It was early afternoon and she would have preferred to stay with Grace, but everyone had to do their part. But It never got easier leaving her. If anything, it got harder.

"Hey Pumpkin! Mommy's gotta go out to get some food like I promised. Now Mister Rick and T-Dog and Mister Hershel will be here to protect you so I want you to listen to them, and mind them ok?" Emory began brushing Grace's hair and then plaited into a tidier french braid.

"Ok Mom. Just hurry back." Grace's eyes held so much more worry than a child her age should. With a quick hug and kiss, Emory grabbed her gear and went back to the car..

"Let's move. We're losing daylight!" Daryl yelled before slamming the rear hatch shut. Emory slid into the passenger seat and Daryl drove, carefully navigating the steep curving driveway that lead to this very secluded vacation 'cabin'.

Once they made it to the main road she picked up the walkie.

"Hey Glenn! Any ideas on the best way to go.

"Yeah. I think Toccoa's our best bet. Just head south about 10-15 miles." Glenn answered, his voice crackly over the walkie. "If they don't have what we need we'll have to try Cornelia."

"Got it. Yell if something comes up," Emory set down the walkie and sat awkwardly in silence. Every once in a while she'd catch herself looking at Daryl's profile, but then she'd look away before he caught her. She felt ridiculous. Like a love sick teenage girl.

"The house looks really promising," she couldn't take it anymore and had to say something, no matter how stupid and banal.

"Yeah. Ain't bad. Easier to secure from walkers," Daryl's answer was equally noncommittal. Emory didn't know it, but Daryl was struggling too. Ever since that night in the cellar, he hadn't known what to do. What to say. How he should act around her. Should he say something about that night? But it wasn't like they'd had many opportunities to be alone, until now.

"Well, I for one wouldn't mind staying put for a few weeks if we can make this place safe," Emory forced the conversation, if you could even call it a conversation.

"Yeah. S'ppose that'd be alright," Daryl agreed, still struggling and feeling awkward. Why couldn't he be like Rick or even Glenn, and just know how to talk to her. To tell her nice things. So she knew how he felt.

"It's a shame there's no power. Did you see the hottub on the balcony? Can you imagine how amazing that would feel after a week like this one. If they didn't drain it though, it's probably nasty. Full of frogs and scum," Emory tried to joke but she had almost moaned at the memory of long soaks in the tub back home. A beautiful clawfoot tub that had looked so elegant in her bathroom. It was what sold her on the house and she bought it on the spot.

Daryl's head snapped around at the image of Emory and that hot tub. Immediately he was picturing her stepping out of it, steam pouring off her naked body. Shit, focus on the road, he scolded himself. Like she'd ever want yer scarred, dumb, scrawny ass, Merle's voice dominated his inner conversation. For Chrissakes, ya cain't even keep her and her kid fed, Merle voice continued to berate him on the one skill Daryl had long been confident in. He'd be damned if he'd let her starve. He gripped the steering wheel tighter as he tried to think of anything to say. Part of him was now wishing she'd rode with Glenn and Maggie so he wouldn't feel like this.

"Wouldn't mind having a bed to sleep in tonight either," Daryl finally managed to find his voice and croak out something.

"Hey Daryl," Emory's voice suddenly took on a serious tone. "I'm really glad you didn't leave us. The group," she clarified. "I mean, ya had every right to after what happened to Merle...and then Sophia," Emory couldn't look at him but felt she needed to say this. At least once.

Daryl's throat tightened of it's own volition. He could have no more have left Emory and Grace than cut off his own arm. But she didn't know that. And he had no idea how to tell her. Or if he should.

Emory looked over at his rough, calloused hand tightly gripping the gear in the center console, and before she could talk herself out of it, she reached over to softly rest her hand on his, stroking him lightly with her thumb.

Please do something! Say something! Anything, she silently begged. Or look at me so I know what he's thinking. Emory hadn't even realized she was holding her breath. And nothing.

When Daryl didn't respond, she sighed and stilled. She must have been wrong. He kissed her back but only after she literally stuck her fingers in his mouth. What did she really expect. Men will be men and take what's offered, but Daryl obviously didn't have feelings like that for her. Emory slowly withdrew her hand and placed it back on her lap.

Daryl was mesmerized by the tingling just the feel of her soft hand on his caused. He'd been frozen wanting to record the moment. Show Merle he was wrong. But then she pulled away. She turned her head to look out the window and placed her hand in her lap.

His heart was racing a mile a minute. He knew he had to do something or he might never get another chance. In spite of all of Merle's taunts in his head, he reached over for her hand and threaded his fingers in hers. He glanced over to look at her face.

At first she frowned in obvious confusion, but then a slow, soft smile tugged at the corners of her lips and she curled her fingers around his.

* * *

"Mama Mama!" Gracie squealed with delight when she saw her mom enter the house, arms loaded down with bags of supplies which she swiftly let slide to the floor.

"Hey Baby!" Emory swept her up in her arms. That was when she noticed something odd. Grace's hair was damp and she smelled clean with a hint of lavender.

"You smell beautiful. Did you have a bath?" she looked quizzically at Grace while Daryl and Maggie and Glenn carried in their supplies and stood next to her.

"Yes. Mister Rick found a way to turn on the hot water! And the lights and the oven. T-Dog even said we might get to fill up the hot tub. It's like a timy swimming pool," Grace rattled off all that had happened, smiling like a reporter who scored the scoop of the century.

Emory raised a brow then looked around for Rick to get an explanation..

"Rick?" Daryl finally carried his bags to the table, then left to join Rick who was talking with T-Dog by the large glass window.

"Did I hear Grace said there's power?" Daryl asked.

"Yep. Lucked out and found a generator. This place is quite a find," Rick congratulated Daryl. He was the one to notice the change in planting and foliage and then further back, the high quality fencing.

"It's a natural gas generator with diesel backup. This place must have lost power one too many times because they spent a pretty penny on a hell of a backup system," Rick's clean face already looked ten years younger, the worry lines slightly diminishing.

"So? How'd ya'll do?" Rick asked, praying they'd been able to get the supplies needed to secure this place and they wouldn't need to go for awhile.

"Yeah. We did alright. Got enough lumber and tools to secure the hell outta this place. Got food and a bunch of other things too," Daryl didn't bother Rick with a rundown of all the other goods they'd scored. Emory and Maggie had grabbed baby formula and clothes for the baby, medicine, warm clothes for everyone and toiletries. He even remembered Emory throwing in some toys and games for the kids, reminding him it would be Christmas soon.

"Well, let's secure this place as best we can before it gets dark," Rick and T-Dog joined Daryl and Glenn as they headed down to the truck to pull out the lumber.

Maggie and Emory on the other hand had carried in bag after bag of supplies. They'd found a Costco and despite having to kill two dozen or so walkers the place had been a dream.

But the pharmacy had been the real gold mine. It hadn't been raided yet and had been fully stocked with antibiotics and painkillers and other necessities. Thankfully Maggie knew what to take and what to leave.

They spread everything out on the vast dining table and soon it looked like a survivalist's wet dream. They couldn't turn the lights on the main floor with the vast expanse of windows, even though they had the power, afraid the glow might attract walkers. So until they could find a way to cover all the windows at night they would need to be cautious even with flashlights and candles.

The basement was gigantic and windowless. But it also had a full kitchen, living area with pool table so downstairs was where the action was.

"Oh my. All of this is amazing!" Carol felt tears pour down her face at all she had to work with. "between this and what was here, we can live for months easily on all of this!"

"I hope so. It sure would be nice to stop running for at least the winter!" Emory looked over at Grace playing cards with Beth and Carl.

"How are you doing Lori?" Emory looked at the thin woman who was putting away the canned goods.

"I'm fine! Thank you for suggesting this, by the way. Rick doesn't really listen to me anymore, so I'm grateful he at least listened to you," Lori shut the cupboard door and moved to grab more cans. But the pain in her voice was evident.

"Lori. Why don't you sit down and let us take care of all this?" Emory grabbed Lori and settled her into a barstool.

"Do ya'll want to see what else I found?" Carol's eyes shone with glee. She led Maggie and Emory over to a beautifully carved wooden door just off the main staircase. When she opened it and flipped the switch, three entire walls of wine along with upscale canned goods like caviar were revealed.

"What kind of person has a fully stocked wine cellar in their vacation home?" Maggie asked aloud, awed and thrilled by the sight. But Emory felt only a quiver of shame as she thought back to her own vacation home in the Hamptons, complete with wine cellar, bowling alley, game room and a whole lot of other excessive bullshit. Thankfully Grace had been too young to really remember.

"Well, I say we open a bottle and toast the thoughtful folks that left all of this to us. Especially the generator!" Maggie grabbed a pair of bottles and they all joined Lori back in the kitchen, each grabbing a bar stool around the island.

Lori worried, but after Hershel's assurance partook in a small glass of wine, and eventually started losing the tight, drawn look that had been her mask these past few months. Carol began planning the menu and Emory did her best to do the prep work while Maggie plugged Emory's iPhone into the speaker system and hit shuffle. Soon Aretha's throaty voice was belting out 'Respect' almost immediately joined by the four woman who couldn't but start singing along.

"Jeezus Carol! You are some kind of magician. How did you make these out of practically nothing?" Emory's mouth watered at the fluffy biscuits that Carol pulled out of the oven. A big pot of chicken and yellow rice which Carol jazzed up with some sliced carrots was simmering on the stove, and the most amazing aromas wafted all throughout the basement.

"Hey Hey Hey! What is that amazing smell? Has to be Carol working her magic?" T-Dog bounded down the basement stairs, eager to find the source of the deliciousness.

"And what makes you so sure it wasn't me or Maggie?" Emory teased, grabbing Maggie by the waist and spun her around with a hug. Everyone was in a jubilant mood. Only then did T-Dog notice the wine bottles on the kitchen island.

"Are you kidding me? Ya'll been down here getting toasted while we've been bustin' ass this whole time?" he playfully accused while snatching the nearest open bottle and taking a big swig.

"Manners!" Carol snatched the bottle back, but only to pour a healthy sized glass and handing it back to a grateful T-Dog. Which was when Rick, Daryl and Glenn marched down the stairs to join them.

"Are we secure?" Hershel left Beth, Grace and Carl to talk to Rick.

"We have all the entrances secure. No walkers are gonna be able to get up the stairs. And unless they grow wings, the balcony is secure and the upstairs balconies give us some great vantage points. We nailed boards over the railings just to be safe though. But until we work up something more sophisticated, we'll have to use those rope ladders ya'll brought. We are for all intents and purposes barricaded in for now," Rick explained, but even he couldn't hide the newfound optimism he was feeling.

"Well, those balconies will be nice, safe place to get some fresh air," Emory mulled as she pulled out a few more wine glasses and rinsed them off before handing each a full glass. Carol agreed to part with some of the biscuits and Maggie squirted some with Cheez Whiz and others with the last of the preserves.

"Thank God this stuff never goes bad," Maggie laughed and squirted some directly into her mouth. Laughing at her friend, Emory opened her mouth and Maggie squirted some directly in.

"Do me!" Gracie watched in fascination at her mom, laughing and having fun so ran over.

"Here kiddo! Enjoy!" Maggie gave her a squirt and then gave the can to her so Grace could share with Carl. Emory gave Maggie a smile of thanks and watched Grace run over to Carl, both of them laughing and taking turns squirting Cheez Whiz into each other's mouth, more often that not missing the mouth entirely.

Emory couldn't help but remember the night Daryl told they would find a place to build a life. And nights like this made her think it might be possible.

Dinner was a relaxing, enjoyable feast. They ate in the basement and it was the best meal they'd had since the farm. It was hard not to look around and appreciate just how many friends and family they'd lost. But tonight was about the present. And so they toasted.

After they finished Grace and Carl left the table to go play but everyone else chose to linger around the table. There was sharing and story telling and relaxed, jovial laughter. It was a pleasant change from deciding which route to take or what supplies were most needed.

"This is some hell of a vacation cabin! I wonder what the person did for a living to own a place like this?" Glenn wondered aloud as they all took in the luxury.

"Movie star?" Maggie guessed.

"I don't know. With those windows it would have been easy pickin's for any photographer. I'm thinking corporate executive. Maybe one of those retreats where they come and do those team building exercises." Rick went on to describe the strange games that he'd done when he'd been sent to one.

"People really do shit like that?" Daryl's lip curled up in derision.

"Wasn't your husband a corporate executive?" Carol asked in feigned innocence, overcome with the need to remind Daryl just how different he and Emory really were. They were just far too cozy lately.

"Ex! My ex-husband. And yes, he worked as an investment banker," Emory mumbled, taking a big gulp of wine and hoping the subject would change.

"What does that mean? Investment banker?" Beth asked with legitimate innocence and interest.

"Basically he bought and sold companies all day," Emory smiled at Beth, figuring this would be the end of that line of conversation.

"Was your house as nice as this?" Emory was now being peppered with questions about her life with Brian. Daryl felt her tensing up beside him. He hesitated but was buoyed by the alcohol, he reached his hand over and squeezed her thigh. His answer was a smile of thanks and her threading her fingers with his.

"Yes, he had nice homes like this. But Gracie and I live in a home in Georgia that did not have a wine cellar or exercise room, I guarantee you" Emory emphasized and prayed the direction of the conversation would move elsewhere.

"Homes? You had more than one? Why? Where? That must have been so cool! Did you have maids ...or a chauffeur?" Beth was enchanted by the idea of Emory living the life of glamour of sophistication she'd read about in magazines.

"He travelled a great deal for work. London, Paris, Tokyo..." Emory shrugged. "It was what it was. I mean, growing up on your farm must have been pretty amazing. I would have loved to raise Gracie someplace like the farm," Emory was desperate to get the focus off of her previous life and on to more pleasant things. "It's why I moved to Georgia."

"No way! It was so BORING!" Beth huffed, but Maggie interceded, sensing Emory's discomfort.

"It was not either Beth! Tell her! Remember how much fun you and me and Sean had? Trying to catch the baby ducks and pigs, or foaling season?" Maggie smiled nostalgically.

Emory was no longer under such intense scrutiny and Daryl felt her beginning to relax again as he stroked her hand with his thumb. She loved the feel of his rough, calloused hands on hers. They were such a pleasant improvement to Brian's manicured ones. She unthreaded her fingers and reached over to squeeze his thigh, resting her hand on his leg. Daryl was flummoxed, but he took another healthy swig of wine and rested his hand back on her thigh, gently stroking her leg and wishing she was wearing that dress she used to wear back at the farm.

It was Carol that brought the conversation back around to Emory. Carol was picking up on the subtle looks between Emory and Daryl. And she didn't like it. Not one bit. It wasn't right. Emory should be thinking of her daughter.

"How on earth did Grace ever see her father if you moved back to Georgia? That must have been difficult?" Carol's eyes glinted with a coldness Emory had never seen before.

"She didn't. It's why I moved to Georgia," Emory ground out, unaware just how tightly she was now squeezing Daryl's thigh. Emory looked over at Grace making sure she wasn't listening. Fortunately she and Carl were completely engrossed in their game of Sorry.

"That's so awful. Didn't you know how important it is that a child have her father in her life," Carol's voice oozed sweetness and concern.

"Carol, you are well aware that my ex-husband was a violent rapist and I wouldn't let him within 10 feet of my daughter. Which only begs the question? Why are you really bringing it up?" Emory accused with a stone face then stood up and stared at Carol, letting her know she knew exactly what game Carol was playing.

"Please excuse me," Emory whispered before the tears could fall. With all the dignity she could muster, she turned and walked out of the basement and then ran the rest of the way upstairs.


	12. Chapter 12-Not That There's Anything

**Chapter 12 - Not That There's Anything Wrong With That**

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"Carol! Why would you do that? Say such hurtful things?" Lori and Maggie were shocked by Carol's manipulative behavior and Beth didn't really understand what was going on. But Hershel had noticed everything. Every nuance, every twitch, every voice hitch. The narrowing of Carol's eyes whenever Daryl looked lovingly at Emory.

"What did I say? That a child needs their father?" Carol defended herself, playing the innocent as the chatter around her exploded.

"Beth? Would you go stay with Grace? Keep an eye on her for a little bit?" Hershel asked his youngest, who eagerly left the table.

Carol felt Daryl's furious, probing gaze before he too left the table, grabbing two bottles of wine and left the table. It wasn't until he felt Grace's little hands on his arm that he stopped to turn around.

"Is my mom ok?" Grace eyes were full of worry. Grace didn't know what happened, but it wasn't like her mom to just up and leave. But she trusted Daryl to tell her the truth, and to take care of her mom.

"She'll be fine. But I'm gonna go check on her," he promised the girl.

"Mister Daryl. Thanks!" Grace's tone made it sound so much more serious.

"Can you get yourself to bed? Maggie and Beth will help if you need it. Shall we give yer mom a break tonight?" Daryl asked, knowing full well Grace would agree. Grace was a lot more competent and mature than even her mother gave her credit for.

"I can get to bed by myself. I'm not a baby," she assured him but then leaned in to tell him something more. "I know my dad was a douchebag and really mean to my mom!," Grace whispered in his ear knowing her mom would be upset if anyone else heard her.

"Mine too Grace! Mine too," Daryl lifted her up then tossed her in the air until she squealed, ignoring the glare from Carol. He finally set her down and went in search of Emory.

* * *

"Ya fancy society ladies sure know how to make an exit," Daryl finally found her on the third floor balcony, looking out over the densely wooded forest that now surrounded them. The full moon illuminated her face and the roar of the whitewater helped drown out the cacophony in her head.

"Really? That was nothing! I didn't even break anything!" Emory tried to laugh when she turned to face him, strangely nervous yet pleased he'd actually come looking for her. She could see his breath as he spoke which only served to remind her just how cold it was out here, wrapping her arms around herself a bit tighter.

"Grace told me her daddy was a douchebag," Daryl snickered as he recalled the little kid's words.

"She didn't," Emory was mortified. "I never should have said that word in front of her. It seems to be her new favorite word," Emory held her head in her hands.

"Oh God. Gracie! I need to go back to check on her ... so she doesn't worry!" Emory immediately began to panic as Carol's accusations roared in her head, but Daryl pulled her back.

"Don't worry. Beth and Maggie said they'd take care of her and get her to bed." Daryl relayed his conversation with the Greene girls who were both none to pleased with Carol tonight.

Daryl grabbed her shoulders, which again reminded him of how thin she was getting. Emory stiffened at the unexpected touch but couldn't help but relax against his strong chest when he wrapped his arms around her.

"Ya need ta eat more. I seen ya givin' yer food to Lori and Grace," Daryl pointed out then handed her the bottle of wine, satisfied when she took a healthy swig and then another...

"Well, since you found this place I won't anymore. God I hope this lasts! I really want to stay here!" Emory admitted, and took another drink.

"I don't know why I let Carol push my buttons about my ex like that," Emory admitted. "I was so close to bringing up Ed...and God help me...Sophia."

"But ya didn't," Daryl reminded her.

"Grace was wrong. He was way worse than a douche bag! But what I'm really upset and embarrassed about is that it took me so long to see it and do something," she pulled the bottle back to her lips and chugging, leaning even more against him.

"Why did it?" Daryl couldn't believe he'd asked that, unsure if he really even wanted to know.

"Ohhh, he was crafty. He did it so slowly and so subtly that I didn't even realize what had happened. But having Gracie was my wakeup call." Emory recalled.

"He was a chameleon. He could be whoever he needed to be to close the deal. Another term for it is sociopath." she drank heavily again expecting Daryl to leave any minute. But to her amazement he stayed. Just held her tighter, periodically drinking from the bottle.

"I'm seriously thinking about getting shitfaced drunk, Mister Dixon," she playfully accused and greedily sipped, accepting she was well on her way. "Ya feel like joining me?"

Daryl really liked seeing her like this. Playful and smiling and tipsy. Her eyes glowed and her smile was electric. She was also more touchy-feely, easily leaning her back against his chest and frequently touching him.

"So now you've heard the pitiful sordid details of my so-called life. What about you? Any serious girlfriends? A wife?" she rubbed his arm slightly, encouraging him to share.

"Yeah Right!" he shrank back, sure she was mocking him.

"Come on! There must have been someone?" Emory suddenly felt like the only one naked and exposed.

It was when Daryl set the bottle down and pulled away from her and letting her go, that she fully comprehended just how thick an emotional wall she'd encountered.

"Hey Daryl? Forget it. I'm sorry I pushed," she paused yet hoped he would hold her again. But he just kept ataring out over the balcony. "Well, Thanks for listening. If you want I'll let you be," Emory placed a comforting hand to his back. Then, grabbing her wine bottle, she headed back inside the large bedroom to give him some space. She miserably flopped on the bed, drinking some more and forcing her tears away, wondering if tonight could get any worse. She could have sworn he felt something. But it seemed she was the only one interested, always making the first move. She'd usually been the one fighting off advances with men. Not praying for the guy to make an advance. They weren't teenagers for pete's sake. Suddenly the old saying 'He's Just Not That Into You' came to mind'.

Meanwhile, Daryl stood there on the balcony freezing his ass off, wondering what the hell just happened. How had this got turned around on him? And how did he end up out here alone when just a few minutes ago she'd been in his arms. He'd been nuzzling her hair, thinking about moving to her neck.

Fuck this! He turned and entered the french doors then slammed them shut, his skin giving off steam as he took in her surprised expression.

"Daryl?" Emory gasped as she suddenly stood up, wobbly from the wine and shocked at his sudden appearance.

"There wasn't never no gurlfriend!" Daryl slammed out, his breathing heavy and erratic, and his face burned with humiliation.

"Oh?" Emory wasn't sure what was happening but could tell this was important to Daryl. That he tell her something.

"I find that hard to believe. The women of Georgia couldn't possibly that dumb and blind." Emory still had no idea what was going on or what he was trying to tell her, but it was obviously deeply upsetting to Daryl. And then it dawned on her. Daryl was trying to tell her he is gay!


	13. Chapter 13-Flashback(Beside The Dying)

**Flashback: Beside The Dying Fire (night after losing farm)**

* * *

They were all infected! Rick's words echoed in her ears as she looked over at her beautiful daughter. This was not the life she should be growing up in. She should be taking ballet and piano and playing in the park after school. Going to proms later! Begging her for a new car on her 16th birthday.

But now! It didn't matter if they got away. If they somehow got to a safe place like an island or something. When you died, you came back as a monster.

Grace was finally asleep and wrapped in her coat and an old barn blanket from the truck. Emory stood up and shoved her gun in her jeans. She had to get away for a minute. She couldn't let Grace or the others see her breakdown...and she was hanging by a thread.

"I gotta go to the truck for something. Be back in a sec," Emory explained to Rick, then raced off before he could respond. She got no further than five feet before the tears ran down her face and her breathing became labored. She never even made it inside her SUV, she simply slid down the side of the steel walls and curled up on the ground by the large tire, letting the sobs wrack her body. She never even heard his silent approach.

He'd watched her hurry off and followed her. She'd never leave Grace so it had to be important. Maybe she was sick? Even if she just needed to piss, he was gonna watch out for her. It wasn't safe out there.

Then he saw her collapse behind her truck and her knees tucked under her arms, her entire body shaking.

Daryl never spoke. He simply pulled her up and Emory desperately clung to him. A source of strength in this neverending nightmare.

She couldn't hold back. She sobbed into his shoulder, rubbing her snotty nose on his shirt.

"My baby has this. No matter how much I protect her. She'll turn. I'll turn. You'll turn," she cried into his shoulder, strangely comforted by just the smell of him.

"So?" Daryl held her away from him, to tilt her chin up so he could look into her eyes.

"Ya only turn if ya die? So now, we have to add a step to make sure they stay dead. But how's that really any different?" Daryl held her in his arms.

"I just hoped, had this fantasy really that if I was strong enough, I could get Grace to a safe place. A place she could live a semi-normal life? Like an island or something. But we can't outrun this can we?" Emory's tear stained face searched Daryl's concerned one.

"Nah, don't suppose we can! But you've taken real good care of her so far. And I think we'll find a place like Rick was talkin' about. Prob'ly won't be the life you planned, but it can still be good," Daryl's voice was like silk, soothing and comforting.

This was the first time he had really taken the time to think about the future. Heck! Even before the world went to shit, he only usually thought about getting through the day.

But now he wanted more. He couldn't help but stroke her hair and realize he also wanted to find a place to build a life. And deep down he knew it was because of her. He wanted it not just for himself, but largely for Emory and Grace ...and hoped to be a part of their life.

"You really think so?" Emory desperately wanted to believe it.

"Yea I do." Daryl assured her with an unexpected confidence. "Ya ready to head back?" as much as Daryl liked having her in his arms, he wasn't comfortable being this exposed.

Emory didn't want to move. In this moment, even after everything that happened tonight, she felt safe in his arms. And maybe something more.

"Sorry, I think I got snot on your shirt," she patted his chest and fingered the plaid fabric.

"Yea? That's probably the least gross thing on it," he looked down at the faded, dirty fabric,

I suppose we should get back. It's just, this feels nice," she admitted before she had a chance to stop herself. Mortified she pulled away, then lead the way back.

"Yea, it did!" Daryl muttered under his breath as he followed her back.


	14. Chapter 14 - I Ain't Gay

How could he kiss her like that if he was gay? Twice? Well, you did practically jump him, Emory reminded herself. Maybe he was afraid if he didn't she would know, maybe say something?

"Oh Daryl. Are you trying to tell me you're gay?" she implored him to just tell her. She would never judge. She'd be disappointed, but would care about him just as much.

Daryl's eyes slammed wide open as her words sank in. She thinks yer gay Darleena, Merle's voice was laughing hysterically. And why wouldn't she? Merle continued. No wife? No girlfriend? Ever! I always figured ya was a pansy!

"I ... AIN'T ...GAY!" he frantically grabbed her hands and held them behind her.

"Oh?" she looked at him, completely and utterly confused.

"Em'ry! The only women the likes of me ever saw were the whores and skanks at the bar that only ever called me to pick up Merle and settle his tab!" Daryl turned away as he ranted. How could he tell that the girls he liked would never give him the time of day? The pretty teacher he saw at the grocery store, or the nice lady from the bank would smile politely at him but he always felt they were counting the seconds until he left. He had never been sure if they were disgusted or if it was because they were afraid.

Emory stared at his heaving back and her heart broke. Not for this Daryl, but for the boy who had somehow been convinced he was less than.

"Daryl?" she went to him and wrapped her arms around him, urging him to face her.

Daryl cocked his head and looked at Emory. He looked into those gray eyes that now shimmered and he could have sworn she still wanted him. That made him wonder if everything that had been rattling around in his head might not be true. He had to find out.

"I'd hate fer there to be any more confusion about whether I like women" and with that he reached down and claimed her lips. Emory leaned in closer, opening her mouth to eagerly welcome him, tangling and sliding tongues

He slid his hands up her back then fisted them in her thick hair. He liked how tall she was. Tall but not quite as tall as he was so her body molded perfectly to his. Her fingertips began tracing little designs at the nape of his neck while her grey eyes searched his.

He felt her hand reaching under his shirt and then she raked her nails down his back. His erection was now pressing firmly into her belly and it only excited her more.

But Emory suddenly began feeling self-conscious. She hadn't bathed in weeks, and the thought of being intimate in this state was mortifying.

"What's wrong?" Daryl stopped to look at her, sensing the sudden reticence.

"I just haven't showered..." Emory's face flamed.

"I thought I heard something about hot water," Daryl whispered in her ear.

-/:/-/-


	15. Chapter 15-Flashback(Merle Needs A Fix)

**Flashback: Meeting the Dixons and why Merle goes with group on supply run into Atlanta.**

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**A/N: Thank you so much FanFicGirl, Java, Leyshla, Guest, GypsyWitch, piratejessie, NormanReedus (sorry...and best name ever) for your awesome reviews. I know, Carol is being a jealous hag. Sorry, but she lives...for now. And no way Daryl is gay (Not that there's anything wrong with that...just not in mystory) And sorry for keeping you waiting. Shower scene next. I promise! You are all the best.**

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**Flashback:**

"Well hey there Sugartits! Whatcha got there!" Merle drawled in that confident, half-serious way he had.

"Why Mister Dixon! That has to be the nicest thing anyone's said about my tits in a long time!" Emory had an instinctive ability to charm Merle out of his bad moods. Daryl sat on the nearby tree stump trying not to watch yet fascinated by their exchanges.

"Well you musta been hanging around those dipshit city boys. Stupid pansy asswipes," Merle snorted at his own joke and spit in disgust.

"You don't know the half of it. And thank you for watching your language around Grace. I appreciate it. Brought you both seconds if you're interested." Emory handed Merle his bowl then stepped over to Daryl to give him one.

"Ya eat already? I like how yer ass fills out dem jeans. Would hate to not have that sight around here," Merle did his best to sound vulgar, but it touched Emory that it was out of genuine concern. And she'd been sincere when she thanked him. He really had watched himself around her daughter. Not around anyone else, but around Grace he kept it fairly PG.

"I did. And so did Grace. And everyone else ate as well, thanks to you two," Emory noticed Merle's eyes were a tad bloodshot and his hands were slightly shaking. His younger brother just sat off to the side cautiously watching. While Merle would talk to her, his brother barely said two words. He spent most of his time in the woods.

"You ok?" was all Emory said as she leaned closer to Merle so nobody else heard.

"I'm fine. Don't need ya to worry 'bout ol' Merle," he forced himself to sound better than he was. His stash was running dangerously low, and he'd been forced to try and taper down. Emory recognized the signs early on but never judged him. She'd simply slip him some aspirin or Tylenol in the mornings when he was feeling rough.

"Well then, Goodnight gentlemen," Emory turned on her heel and returned to help the other women with evening cleanup.

* * *

"Ya hear that Little brother? She called us gentlemen! That there is one classy broad," Merle whistled and dove into his stew, ravenously shoveling it in. He knew better than most to eat what you could, when you could.

"Not like those blond bitches or the cop's cooze," Merle muttered. Andrea, Amy and Lori had literally never even spoken to either Merle or Daryl. Not even to say thank you. Just looked down their noses.

But even that first day, Emory hopped out of her luxury SUV and introduced herself and her kid to both of them, never even batting an eye at Merle's initial vulgarity.

She'd even caught Merle on the pipe one day but still didn't say anything, knowing full well Shane and the others would have run them both off. After about a week, the rest of camp decided they would just send Emory over to talk to the Dixon brothers when they needed something; like the camp liaison.

Emory's only non-negotiable demand was that Merle watch his mouth around her daughter and keep his stash out of sight and secure.

They'd been even more shocked the first time they came back from three days of hunting to find their tent aired out and freshly washed clothes folded neatly on their cots.

So, the day they'd caught the Grimes boy and Morales boy tormenting Grace and giving her such a hard time that she cried, they took matters into their own hands. Dixon Style.

Merle marched forward and grabbed both boys by the collar and knelt down in front of them, slowly taking his knife out to sharpen it against a nearby stone.

"If I see you two being anything other than protective of that little girl, that'll be the last thing either of ya do." Merle whispered quietly so no one else could hear. "Same goes if ya go crying to yer parents 'bout our little discussion. We clear?" Merle's eyes glinted in complete seriousness.

"Yessir!" the two boys were both near tears and close to peeing in their pants. They'd both seen what Merle could do to an animal with that knife and were well aware most of the adults were terrified of Merle and Daryl.

"Ya got something to say?" Merle prodded the boys.

"We're sorry Gracie. You can be the leader whenever you want," they both promised simultaneously and gave her back her doll which they'd been playing 'keep away' with.

Merle stood up feeling rather proud of himself as he watched the two little boys suck up to Grace. What he hadn't been prepared for was when the little girl abruptly turned back around and wrapped her arms around his leg in a hug.

"Thank you Mister Merle!" she hugged tightly then raced over and did the same to Daryl before she ran off, suddenly bouncing with confidence as she caught up with the boys.

Both Dixons were speechless.

* * *

"Merle, I know why you're going and I wish you wouldn't," Emory sat down beside him on the log. He'd joined Glenn and the others for a major supply run in the morning.

"Whatcha talkin' about? Don't ya want some supplies from town? Maybe I could git ya one of dem Victoria's Secret bras? Get ya somethin' sexy to lift those titties up! It'd sure be good fer morale!" Merle's hands were now visibly shaking, and Emory was very concerned.

"So, you're saying they need lifting?" she accused, feigning hurt but then git back to the real issue. "Seriously Merle, I don't want to push but you're going to run out sooner or later. Wouldn't it be better to get it over with here? With someone to help?" Emory had gone through this often enought, helping her best friend get through the difficult withdrawals and detox at least a dozen times before sobriety stuck.

"Yer a good woman. But I'm thinking the situation's reversed. No demand means a shitload of unused supply just sittin' there fer Ol' Merle. If ya know where ta look. Which I do!" Merle laughed but could already feel the nausea, shakes and chills starting.

"Ok. Just be careful," She patted his knee and left to go pack up supplies for the group to take. Merle wasn't ready, and she knew nagging and prodding only aggravated the situation. Now she just had to pray he did find drugs because the thought of him going through full out withdrawal while trying to fight walkers scared her. Not just for Merle but the others.

"Always! Keep an eye on my baby brother?" Merle threw back at her.

"Always!" she snapped back, well aware she'd likely not even see him.

* * *

"Where the fuck is Merle?" Daryl returned from hunting early in the afternoon to find his brother nowhere in camp.

Lori, Carol and Amy immediately looked to Emory to go talk to him. "Here," she passed the clean dish to Amy and slowly approached the Dixon camp.

"Hey Daryl, Merle went into town on the supply run with Andrea, Jacqui, Morales, T-Dog and Glenn. He was desperately low on 'supplies'," she emphasized 'supplies' so Daryl understood exactly what Merle was going into town for.

Daryl stood there staring at her, well aware she was the only one of the women that would dare enter the Dixon camp, much less talk to him.

"That fucking sorry junkie," he slammed the dead carcasses to the ground and stomped away.

"Hey! Shush!" Emory tried to calm him. "No need to advertise."

"The fuck ya care? Ya got the hots fer him cause I'm sure he'd be happy to accommodate," Daryl snarled like a wild animal.

"I care because I don't want the others to kick you and Merle out. And No, I don't have the 'Hots' for your brother. There is this crazy new thing people are trying. It's called being friends," she answered sarcastically. "Merle and I are giving it a try. Who knows? , It might just take off, and soon others will be doing it," Emory continued her sarcastic tirade.

Daryl turned his back to her, well aware he had no business talking to her like that. He'd been observing the banter between Merle and her and nothing even remotely serious had happened.

He had to admit that every once in a while he wished she would joke around with him so comfortably...the way she did with Merle. He wished he was the one that said the things that made her face light up in laughter.

"Sorry! Thanks fer tellin' me where he was," he mumbled.

"Hey lady! Why didn't ya rat Merle out when ya knew?" Daryl turned to look at her, his brow furrowed in confusion.

"He's sick and needs help. When he's ready. Plus, we'd starve without you two," she added the last bit, not really ready to discuss the ugly aspects of addiction with Daryl Dixon.

"Fine. I guess I'll head back out in the morning. Caught some deer tracks so I'll be gone a day or so," he didn't know why he needed to tell her, but he did.

Emory merely stared at him with those silvery gray eyes and nodded.


	16. Chapter 16 - Bath or Shower

**Chapter 16: Bath or Shower?**

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In the center of the room was a large tub and a walk-in shower encased in thick glass. A stone gas fireplace with elegant glass crystals instead of logs sat opposite the tub, which Daryl quickly lit using the electric switch on the wall. Soon the room was aglow in warm, flickering light.

"Bath or shower?" Daryl asked, suddenly sounding far less confident. Emory wasn't sure if she could even believe this was happening, but if this was a drunken dream, she didn't want it to stop.

"Shower?" Emory sensed Daryl wasn't the 'take a bath together' type and didn't want to ruin anything. "I am pretty dirty. I think a shower is preferable to bathing in dirty water. Between us both it'd turn black,". Without waiting for a response she reached in and turn the shower on and immediately the giant rain-shower head was releasing a deluge of hot water, soon steaming up the glass enclosure.

Daryl reached his hands under her shirt and pulled up, swiftly dispensing with her t-shirt, revealing the white lacy bra he'd felt but not seen. He then ran his hands over her hips then back, fascinated by how silky smooth she was.

"We're wasting hot water," she kissed him while quickly slipping off her jeans. After kicking them off she turned to face him so she could unbutton his shirt while he kicked off his shoes. He let her slide his shirt off his arms but that was all. He quickly dispensed with his trousers, but he'd had enough.

"Come here!" he ordered, and then reached around to deftly flick her bra clasp, sucking in his breath at her full breasts. At her nipples which were pink and firm. They reminded him of succulent berries and he wanted to taste them. He swooped her into his arms and carried her into the shower, grateful for the grand size..

"Daryl!" she protested at first but she

then threw her head back and let the water rain over them both, soaking her hair and body. She reached for the shampoo and started lathering only to have Daryl stop her.

"Let me," Daryl insisted, turning her around so her back was against his chest. He gently lathered her hair, washing it twice before sliding his hands over her body. Daryl was having difficulty believing this was really happening. This gorgeous woman was naked and showering with him and running her hands over him as eagerly as he was her. He slid his hands over her ass then up to her hips before reaching around to her stomach then sliding up to cup her tits.

Emory moaned as she arched her back at the intense pleasure Daryl's hands were inciting in her. The contradiction of his rough hands and gentle touch mixed with the slippery lather was exquisite. He teased her nipples over and over, seemingly fascinated by the hardening tips.

She caught sight of the razors resting by the shampoo and body was. Daryl molded his body to her back and slid his hands all over her. But he became undone when she hiked her foot up on the tiled bench and lathered up her leg. He gripped her hips and nibbled her shoulder while she slid the razor quickly over her calves.

"That don't hurt?" Daryl watched in fascination, cringing at the thought of shaving his face so fast. Emory turned her head to meet his lips and mouthed "Nope.". He bent her over so he could reach around to slide his hands along the now silky smooth skin. But he hadn't been prepared for what she did next. He forgot to breathe when she ran the razor over her pubic area, sliding it up and around until all that was left was a small strip of hair. He struggled to swallow.

Emory stepped closer, her eyes heavy with desire. "My turn," she kissed him as the water poured down over them both. She lathered his hair and took her time massaging his head, her confidence increased by firm pressure of his dick against her stomach. She took the body wash and began sliding her hands over his body, luxuriating in the feel of his hard chest and strong arms, then his ass.

He moved to take over but Emory insisted. Snaking her tongue in his mouth, she whispered. "I think I missed a spot," and she grabbed his dick, the soap allowing her hand to slide easily back and forth.

"Em'ry!" he groaned her name, needing to stop her but desperate for her to continue. "No, ya gotta stop. I ain't gonna be done before we even start," and lifted her up, pinning her against the tiled wall.

"Damn!" he muttered, loving how she immediately wrapped her smooth legs around his waist while the water pounded down over them both. Her arms held onto him and her tongue began making its path down his neck, to his collarbone and then her teeth lightly nipped his shoulder.

He nearly passed out from needing to be inside her. His dick was poised at her entrance. But he wanted more than a quickie in the shower. With his free hand he turned off the water and carried her to the bed, grabbing the thick towels she had set out.

She hurriedly towel dried her hair and body then scooted to the head of the bed, pulling back the covers to invite him to resume his position.

"Ya sure?" he had to ask as he gazed into her lustful eyes. He lay down beside her and let his fingers lightly run over her hip.

"I've never been more sure!" she hissed, as she took in the sight of his magnificent body.

-/-/

SORRY - I won't leave you hanging long.


	17. Chapter 17-Friends With Benefits

Holy Shit, he thought to himself. This is really happening. He looked over at Emory's naked body, her hair still damp and tumbling over her shoulders.

"Ya sure?" he didn't know why he asked. Maybe because he still couldn't believe it was going to happen. Still, he dropped the towel from his hips and crawled across the bed to reach her.

"I've never been more sure of anything," Emory's eyes glinted in the candlelight as she reached for him.

He hesitated, but only to position himself at her entrance. He slid his hand down her newly shaved slit and nearly lost it when he felt how wet she was for him.

"I want you!" she reiterated and wrapped her arms around him, raking her nails lightly down his back.

'Not nearly as much as I have wanted you,' Daryl thought, and with a swift thrust they were united. She arched her back beneath him and he stilled, wanting to commit this feeling to memory. The feeling of being so deep within her was like being surrounded by walls of warm honey.

"Move!" She begged him and tilted her hips to take him deeper. It felt so amazing the way he filled her. He looked into her eyes and slowly began to slide in and out of her. His forehead fell into her neck as he tried not to come right then. He slowed down and bent his head to take her nipple into his mouth, flicking and circling the tips with his tongue then nipping slightly. Judging from her reaction, he was doing something very right. She arched and writhed beneath him, throwing her head side to side as she moaned.

"Oh God!" she arched, thrusting her tits up into his greedy mouth. Soon she was tensing and panting beneath him, digging her nails into his back and begging him for more.

He thrust into her harder, half worried he was hurting her yet unable to stop But when she cried out and wrapped her legs around his waist he groaned, collapsing into her neck. She felt so good. Urged on by the motion of her hips, he reached his arms under her thighs and lifted so she clasped her ankles behind his neck, taking him in even deeper. Pleasure was welling in her belly, coiling and tightening with every thrust.

"Em'ry!" he moaned into her neck. He lifted his head up to claim her mouth, frantically tangling his tongue with hers. But he couldn't help but arch his back when she grabbed his ass, meeting him thrust for thrust.

"Don't stop... so close!" she cried out, biting into his shoulder to stifle her scream. The next thrust pushed her over the edge and she fall apart in his arms, her thighs trembling from wave after wave of pleasure. And that was all it took. The feel of her walls quivering and tightening around him in hot pulses brought him to release. With each thrust he emptied himself into her in hot, wet spurts.

"Oh God! Emory!" he growled as he pumped into her, over and over until he was empty.

Emory couldn't move. Every muscle in her body felt like a limp noodle and her breathing was labored. And she felt amazing. Absolutely sated. Daryl was equally spent. He simply collapsed upon her and buried his face in her neck.

They lay intertwined in each others arms, his dick softening but still inside her, for so long that Emory actually resented the moment he finally withdrew from her.

She initially worried that he would pull away from her, but he didn't. Instead he pulled her over to lay on top of him, his arms tight around her. She rested her head on his shoulder and her long hair felt silky on his chest.

"Daryl? That was! I mean...,. I just...yeah," Emory finally spoke but didn't know how to tell Daryl how earth shatteringly amazing that had been.

"Emry? I can't understand a damn thing yer sayin' again," he teased, feeling more content in this moment than in his entire life. Certainly a thousand times better than when he'd fucked that girl in the bed of his truck behind the bar. But he didn't want to think of that right now. Or ever!

"It's just, that was really nice is all," she mumbled as embarrassment took over.

"Nice?" he teased. "I kinda thought it was better than nice." Daryl had never experienced sex like that. The simultaneous giving and receiving of pleasure. Without there being a financial transaction involved.

"That's what I was trying to say. I just never... ," she shrank away in humiliation, unable to face him. Daryl frowned, hating that she felt she had to hide anything from him. He rolled on top of her so he could force her to look at him.

"It's too embarrassing!" she pressed her hands against his shoulders.

"Ain't that ship done sailed?" he ran his hands up and down her body, luxuriating in every inch of her. Seeing the desire in his eyes helped her go on.

"That was the first time I...you know." she looked away. "Finished," she did her best to say orgasm without actually saying it..

"Yeah?" Daryl was like a child on Christmas morning, his ego hugely inflated by her admission. His hands continued there exploration of her naked body.

"I sort of thought you could tell," she teased him, loving how happy and relaxed he looked.

"Daryl? Thanks also for making sure Grace was ok tonight," she leaned up over him, her damp chestnut hair falling in waves around her.

"That literally has to be the most romantic thing anyone has ever done" she began raining kisses along his chest, then crept her fingertips along his side, fascinated by the look of pleasure on Daryl's face.

"Daryl? This? Tonight has been...well...I don't know how to..." Emory sighed, worried if she should stay the night with him or go get Gracie. Did he want to keep this quiet and not let the others know?

"I get it. This was fun, but just a one time thing," Daryl turned his head feeling like he'd been punched in the gut, admitting he'd thought it was more. Much more.

"No! That wasn't what I was ... Oh, I get it?" Emory immediately cringed and began scrambling away from him. "That's what you meant!" she felt ill. She began desperately rummaging through the dresser, throwing on the first thing she grabbed, a gray v-neck tshirt.

"Em? No! Come back here?" Daryl begged, sitting up to reach for her..


	18. Chapter 18 - Alphabetical or By Preferen

**Chapter 18 - Alphabetical or By Order of Preference**

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"Em? No! Please come back here," Daryl pleaded as he scrambled to disentangle himself from the sheets.

"No! It's my fault. My mistake. I just hoped...Nevermind." she couldn't continue. Not without blubbering like a basket case.

"It doesn't matter. It was nice. Thanks for a good time," she added, forcing the quivering sadness out of her voice. She jumped into the new panties and black stretch pants she'd also found in the drawer. Fortunately whoever had lived here was close to her size. All she knew was that she had to get out of here before she humiliated herself further.

"Em'ry, Goddammit! Just stop!" Daryl begged, hating this feeling of fear and desperation that was now churning in his gut. He was losing her ... withing seconds of having her.

"I would love to stay. But I know you don't want this getting out ... and I should go get Grace and get to bed," she ran into the bathroom to grab her dirty clothes and bra, thankful she could wipe away her tears without Daryl seeing.

She lifted the shirt up and quickly fastened the new bra, prepared to put on her dirty one if this didn't fit. The cup size was a little bit big but after a few good meals and she'd be filling it out. She splashed her face with water and took a deep breath before walking back to the bedroom. Daryl was sitting on the side of the bed, shoulders slumped and his towel loosely wrapped around his hips..

"Em'ry! Get yer ass back here!" Daryl's voice was calm and low but no less fierce. "Now!"

"Ya ain't runnin' away anymore!" Daryl walked over and threw her over his shoulder, tossing her on the bed. As fast as she had put her clothes on he began trying to pull them back off. Except for her lacy bra and panties. But only because he loved looking at her in it. These were new, he noticed. A sky blue with sparky stars and matchinf boy shorts.

"Ya gonna explain or ya gonna make me guess, cause ya know I ain't no good at that." Daryl held her tightly, knowing she was 'this close' from bolting.

"I'm sorry. I made an incorrect assumption about what tonight was. But tonight was great. Again, Thank you! But I should go get Grace. She's what matters," Emory mumbled and tears leaked out.

"And that's s'pposed to be news to me?" Daryl propped himself up on his elbows to lean over her, aware he was getting closer to what was bothering her.

"Fine! You want to know? Grace won't understand if we become 'friends with benefits'," Emory cringed as she spoke. "Hell, I wouldn't understand. It's not who I am. But Grace already thinks she's the reason you don't want me. Her words, 'like Mister Glennand Maggie'. I won't give her another!"

Daryl was shocked. That she and Grace thought Grace was a 'turn-off' or that he he wanted to be just 'friends with benefits'. But he was only beginning to realize just how screwed up their communication skills had been.

"I'm sorry." Emory began sliding back off the bed. "It really was a great night but I'd better go."

"And I told you. Ya ain't goin' anywhere!" Daryl sounded annoyed as he pulled her right back on top of him, lacing his hands behind her back so she couldn't move. He seemed to be reveling in a newfound confidence. He never would have acted like this but there was no way she was sleeping anywhere but in his bed tonight. Or any other night. She just didn't know it yet.

"Daryl?..." Emory began but only to be silenced by his lips. Insistently sliding and coaxing and teasing.

"Did ya really think that? That I would do that to Gracie? I would do anything...I'd never do anythin' to her..." Daryl stammered and bumbled and Emory's heart opened and melted everywhere.

"And we ain't that thing ya said. 'Cept fer the benefits part. Ya hear me!" he pulled her face inches from his, his cobalt blue eyes searing into hers making her tingle all the way to her toes.

"You and Grace. Yer mine! Been that way fer awhile but its official now. I ain't gonna let anything happen to ya." Daryl's arms were wrapped around her tight, frequently kissing and nibbling her ear, neck, shoulder.

"This isn't about you taking care of Grace or me!" Emory insisted, propping herself up on straight arms to get a good look at his face. "This is about how much I want you. Not for protection," Emory insisted, her face scrunched with worry.

"I suppose that works too," Daryl was too happy to quibble over semantics. He pulled her closer, running both palms over her back and then cupping her ass, loving the feel of her tight curves.

Emory stared down at him, intoxicated by the moment...by everything.

"Yeah? Are you sure? Kissing in front of the others? And Carol is going to go berserk. She's in love with you, you know?" Emory had to put all the cards on the table.

"Carol's a nice lady and I really wanted to find Sophia for her. But I don't feel 'that way' about her." Daryl was so confused. He couldn't imagine why Carol would think there was anything between them other than friendship.

"I'll deal with Carol. Talk ta her. But seein' as how we keep seem to be havin' misunderstandin's let's just get some things straight. First, starting tonight you'll be sleepin' in my bed! Waking up beside me! Grace is mine but she's not sleeping in the same bed with us unless we're on the road or it ain't safe. Second, I kiss ya whenever, wherever and in front of anyone. It ain't anyone's business but ours. That's it... Don't need ta be any more complicated. Ya and Grace and me," Daryl stated it so beautiful and simple! If she hadn't already been in love with him before, she was now. Lock! Stock! Barrel! She just wasn't sure he was ready to hear the words. Not yet.

"Really?" her eyes beamed. She'd dreamed about this but gave up on Daryl returning her feelings a long time ago.

"Yeah! Ya got a problem with that?!" he threaded his fingers in her hair, jerking her closer. Wanting more.

"No problem. Does this mean we have the room to ourselves? All night? Grace is with Beth?" Emory looked into his face with anticipation.

"Yeah!" he smiled as he kissed her. "Talked to Rick. It's ours while we're here. It ain't like this place don't have enough bedrooms fer everyone," Daryl reminded her they'd counted eight bedrooms.

She snaked her nails up along his sides and Daryl shivered involuntarily. "I really love your arms!" she then raked her nails lightly over his biceps. "Thanks for cutting the sleeves off your shirts," she smiled into his kiss as Daryl absorbed the compliment.

"Maybe we should go over them 'benefits' ya was talkin' about," Daryl suggested, his dick was once again hard for her and pressed firmly against her stomach.

Emory was thrilled. She'd never felt so thoroughly desired or cared for. With a sensual smirk she whispered in his ear.

"Shall we start alphabetically or by personal preference? If you want to go Alphabetically, I'll have to start with 'A' for 'ass-grabbing'," she leaned down to grab his ass as she continued sliding down, her tongue following her path down the middle of his chest. She licked tiny designs on his abdomen just below his hips.

"Then we have 'B' for 'Blowjob'," She met his eyes and he leaned up on his elbows, pupils dilating at the chemical rush of desire. He watched, utterly mesmerized as she licked the moisture off his tip, then inch by inch she took him all the way in her warm, wet mouth, her tongue stroking him.

With his hand in her hair and his stomach muscles clenched, he threw his head back and admitted he was the luckiest guy on the planet. Far off in the back of his mind he'd already began his own plans for when they reached 'C'.


End file.
